


Perseverance

by BadGoose, Hedone (AttackPlatypus), orphan_account



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Charlynch - Freeform, F/F, MMA AU, Multi, The Four Horsewomen, baysha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 21:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 283,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadGoose/pseuds/BadGoose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttackPlatypus/pseuds/Hedone, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The 4 Horsewomen in the world of MMA: The story nobody asked forBecky Lynch is a champion until it all goes wrong, and she loses everything due to injury and bad choices. Can she beat her demons and move forward or is this a fight she can't win?Sasha is a rising star in the division that is finding out fame and success aren't all their cracked up to be.Bayley is a sports writer, trying to make a name for herself while walking a tightrope between romance and good journalistic ethics.Charlotte works for her father managing his fighting gym, heartaches from her past make her reluctant to let anybody break through the walls she has built up.Ft: The Four Horsewomen, Ric Flair, and the other colorful people who make their lives all the more interesting.





	1. Every story has a beginning

**BAYLEY/SASHA**

Bayley stared sullenly at the blinking cursor on her laptop. The blinking vertical line taunting her as she stared at the blank document on her screen. She’d been in this position for a while now and inspiration was proving frustratingly elusive. Checking the clock in the corner of her screen she saw that she only had a few hours before her deadline.

She ran her hands down her face and tried to bully her brain into a more productive place. There were just over six hours until the weigh-ins for the biggest fight card in the history of MMA and here she was with writer’s block. It was maddening, she’d worked for years to be in a position to cover this event and now she was falling down.

In addition to this, she had another reason why she was feeling less than pleased with herself. She’d worked her way up from a blog with fewer than twenty readers to the point where she now ran one of the best MMA news sites on the web. And she’d done this through hard work and making sure to do things the right way. She triple checked her sources, treated everyone fairly, and stayed as objective as possible. Until now anyway.

Feeling the tingling of hair on the back of her neck Bayley closed her eyes as warm lips followed a moment later. She let her head tilt to the side as tiny kisses made their way up to directly behind her ear. An involuntary sigh of pleasure escaped her as her eyes fluttered closed. A moment later a silky voice purred from behind her.

“Better be writing only nice things about me,” Sasha banks said as she snaked her arms around Bayley from behind.

“I shouldn't be writing ANYTHING about you at all…” Bayley said, still keeping her eyes closed as Sasha continued to explore her neck with her lips.

“Aww...and even after what we did last night?” Sasha fake pouted.

“BECAUSE of what we did last night,” Bayley said as she finally opened her eyes and turned to face Sasha. The magenta-haired woman’s perfectly sculpted face was only a few inches from hers. Every time Bayley saw that face it made her melt a little.

Her ‘relationships’ with Sasha Banks, if it could be called that, had begun some time ago. Bayley had been offered the chance to interview an up and coming ‘future star’ in the Bantamweight division. Or at least that’s how Sasha’s manager, Teddy Long, had described the opportunity. Bayley had heard of Sasha of course, it was her job to know these things and she wasn’t quite as convinced as Long that Sasha was destined for superstardom.

On the other hand at that point, her blog had just begun to make some traction. Being approached directly by the manager of a pro fighter had been the kind of break she’d been hoping for. What did it matter if the fighter was a relative unknown and had a reputation for being hard to handle? Bayley was a pro and she would do her job.

On the day of the interview, Sasha had indeed been difficult. She’d arrived late for the interview and had made clear that she thought sitting down with a mere blog journalist was beneath her. Bayley had kept her professional mask on throughout the interview, refusing to be drawn by the other woman. In the end, she’d finished the interview, thanked Sasha for her time, and left as quickly as she could.

She’d told herself that if she never saw Sasha Banks again she would be fine with that. She’d gotten right to work on editing her interview and posted it a few hours later. She’d gone about her business after that until she’d received a surprise phone call the next day. It had been Teddy Long calling again saying that Sasha wanted to meet with her again.

Bayley had been tempted to say no outright, the woman had been such a chore the first time around. But in the end, she’d reasoned that more access to a fighter could only be good for her blog. She’d still been in LA, where the first interview had taken place and had delayed her departure back to San Jose to go to Sasha’s hotel once more.

The Sasha Banks she’d met that second time had been an entirely different woman. Charming, open, and endearingly vulnerable. She was so different that Bayley suspected that she’d been coached to try and change public perception of her. When Bayley had exhausted her questions she was preparing to leave again when Sasha had quickly suggested that they get dinner. Bayley had declined since she was concerned about the ethical implications of fraternizing with someone she had to report on.

But Sasha had offered to speak with Long about more access to his other fighters and Bayley had agreed. She’d reasoned that she was low profile enough that no one would recognize her if she was out with Sasha anyway, besides it wasn’t likely that any media would be staking Sasha out either. Though she’d told herself that she was there for professional reasons she’d been surprised by how good of a time she’d had.

At the end of the night, she’d turned down Sasha’s offer of coffee, explaining that she would never be able to sleep if she had any. She’d gone back to her hotel and the next day had once again prepared to head back to San Jose. To her surprise, she’d again been interrupted by a call from Long, this time offering access to his biggest star a man named Mark Henry. Thrilled by this development Bayley had done that interview only be met by Sasha as she’d left.

“Hey! Did you get to talk to Mark?” she’d asked Bayley.

“Yeah! It was great! Thanks for setting this up!” Bayley had answered eagerly. Sasha had smiled in response but it had been a slightly awkward smile and she hadn’t actually said anything. When silence had stretched for awhile Bayley had clear her throat and said something about needing to get back on the road.

“No, wait!” Sasha had blurted, making Bayley raise a surprised eyebrow. Sasha had seemed embarrassed for a moment, something Bayley wouldn’t have guessed she was even capable of before she’d found her voice again. “Would you like to maybe get lunch before you go?” Sasha had finally asked in an odd tone.

“Thanks, really, but I need to go I haven’t been home in-” Bayley had started to say when, to her shock, Sasha Banks had stepped forward and kissed her. Bayley’s eyes and flown open in total stunned befuddlement at this. She’d never so much as held another woman’s hand in a non-platonic fashion.

“PLEASE...have lunch with me,” Sasha had said softly after they’d broken their kiss. A million responses had lept to Bayley’s lips, the most prominent being ‘I’m not gay’. But almost as though someone had taken control of her body, her lips had agreed to go out with Sasha.

Things had progressed from there. It was hard for Bayley to think of them as being in a relationship given that she was based out of San Jose and Sasha out of LA. But whenever they could they spent time together and then usually the night. And during these times things were so good for Bayley that she didn’t even have time to wonder at her suddenly being in a kind of half same-sex relationship.

In the course of this, she’d gotten to know a Sasha Banks that few other people ever met. Certainly very different from the person the public and other fighters dealt with. And this dichotomy could frustrate Bayley to no end. Sasha had taken to calling herself ‘the Boss’ in connection with her in octagon career. And along with the nickname came the whole persona that Bayley had first met. ‘The Boss’ was arrogant, rude, and insufferable.

Occasionally ‘the Boss’ would bleed into Bayley’s time with Sasha. And whenever this happened she’d always been very quick to put her foot down. At first, this had annoyed Sasha to no end, she’d insisted that Bayley wasn’t accepting her for her. But Bayley had insisted and through that something odd had happened. She’d become a kind of silent and invisible veto on Sasha’s excesses not only in their joint personal lives but in other aspects of Sasha’s life.

One thing Bayley had insisted upon for herself during this time was that she would no longer cover Teddy Long’s fighting team ‘Thuggin and Bugging Combat Sports’. Moreover, she had demanded that she and Sasha keep their relationship private. She knew she’d never be taken seriously or seen as objective if it became known that she was seeing a fighter she covered. This hadn’t seemed to bother Sasha and so the arrangement had been made.

This arrangement had held up fine until recently. Sasha had won her last three fights and done so very convincing fashion. She’d knocked out a woman named Sonya Deville in under two minutes. And with each win, Sasha had not only climbed the international rankings but had also gained more prominence in the media. Of course, more attention made it harder for their relationship to remain secret but it also had another effect.

Previously, Bayley had easily been able to simply focus elsewhere in the MMA world. But now, Sasha was the big story in her field or at least part of it. Her upcoming fight for the Brawl For All Fighting League Women’s Bantamweight Championship was all anyone could talk about. And at this point, any MMA journalist who was anyone HAD to be covering the upcoming fight.

Back in the present Sasha rolled her eyes as she kissed Bayley on the cheek and stood. Bayley turned and saw she was wearing a black silk robe with the blue trim that she favored. As she walked away Bayley couldn’t help her eyes running up and down Sasha’s athletic body. She had to shake herself to force her attention back to her laptop.

“You know you’re the only who cares about that kind of stuff anymore,” she said as she poured herself some water from a glass pitcher. They were in the living room of Sasha’s hotel suite in Vegas, far cry from the rooms they’d first met in.

“I assume you’re referring to my sense of professional ethics?” Bayley asked as she turned back to her laptop.

“Yeah those,” Sasha answered.

“I take my job as seriously as you take your’s Sash,” Bayley said distractedly, her fingers had begun to type.

“Well can you at least promise you won’t write anything nice about Lynch?” Sasha asked archly as she walked over to stand beside Bayley.

“I don’t know, she’s a damned good fighter...one of the best submission specialists around,” Bayley teased.

“Bitch, she’s not THAT good and I can outstrike her anyway,” Sasha said in an annoyed tone.

“Just don’t let her get you to the mat or it’s over…” Bayley said in a sing-song voice.

“Whatever,” Sasha said as she set her glass down.

“I love you too,” Bayley said distractedly.

“Are you coming back over after the weigh in?” Sasha asked as she leaned against the desk Bayley was working at.

“Can’t, there is a press event that I want to make it to. I’m hoping I can meet some big names there,” Bayley said as she kept typing.

“Lame,” Sasha said.

“Besides, won’t you be on lockdown for the next two days?” Bayley asked.

“Yeah, but I’m the Boss, ” Sasha said with a smirk. Bayley turned and gave her a particular sort of look before turning back to her work. It was usual for a fighter’s team to keep their fighters secluded in the day leading up to a match, to keep them out of trouble and at their physical best.

“I’m sure your manager would totally accept that as an excuse,” Bayley said. She was in a groove now and the words were flying out of her.

“I’m his star, what’s he gonna do?” Sasha asked.

“You aren’t THAT big of a star yet, and what he’ll do is make damned sure I don’t ever get to cover one of these events again,” Bayley said.

“What do you mean I’m not that big of a star?” Sasha asked indignantly.

“This is your first big fight, win a few and then we’ll talk,” Bayley said a grin.

“That’s cold.”

“Yep.”

Bayley stayed at Sasha’s place for a while longer, getting the rest of her article down and edited. Then she posted it and made sure to update all her social media accounts. She then got dressed and was about to leave before she turned back and found Sasha shadowboxing by the suite’s large windows.

Leaning in to kiss Sasha she said “I gotta go, be brilliant and don’t do anything stupid at the weigh-in,”

Sasha frowned and asked, “You’re not going to wish me luck?”

“You know I can’t pick sides.”

“Feels like you definitely already have.”

“Bye ‘Boss’,” Bayley teased as she hurried out the suite. She still had a lot to do before she picked up her badge for the weigh-in.

\---  
**Becky  
** The sun was streaming through the opened curtain of the penthouse floor at the Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas. In the middle of the master bed, Rebecca Knox known as Becky Lynch to her mobs of fans lay spread eagle and very naked. All around here were scantily clad women in various states of undress. The Irish Lass Kicker was still passed out but stirring as the sun shined directly into her face.

"Make it stop." She groaned, grabbing a pillow and covering her head with it. "Who turned on the lights?" She grumbled, her Irish accent heavier with sleep. She opened her eyes to meet the unamused look her very pissed off trainer.

Dave Finlay had never been a real patient man but he hadn't earned his keep by being soft. He was the top trainer for Balor's Celtic Combat Sports fighting brand, The Fighting Irish. The top two stars of that brand were, of course, Finn Balor who was the boss' son but also Becky. Finn was the face of the men's side and Becky was the face of the women's.

Finlay was used to Becky's shenanigans by now, but that didn't make him pleased. "You fuck your way through Las Vegas last night?" He asked, checking his watch before letting out a disgusted sigh. "Put on some clothes lass."

A smirk crossed Becky's fingers as she moved her lithe frame out of the bed and got dressed. She was still narrowing her eyes against the sunlight but otherwise was up. "Why you here Dave?"

Finlay's eyes narrowed. "You're late, your weigh-in was supposed to start twenty minutes ago. Last time I checked you have a huge fight tomorrow in which you defend that." He said jerking his thumb towards the title belt that lay discarded in the corner.

There had been a time before the fame had gone to Becky's head that she would have treasured the title like it was her most prized possession. Now it seemed she had lost sight of her priorities.

Becky's smirk dimmed just slightly. "Shit I forgot about that." She finished dressing and snagged the title off of the floor. Her stomach was grumbling but she knew she didn't have time. Besides she needed to make her weigh-in, so no added food weight.

“You even know their names?” Finlay asked nodding to the group of women still in Becky’s bed.

Becky gave a shit-eating smile and shook her head. “Don’t need to Dave, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

If anybody had met Becky now they wouldn’t have believed that she had once been a poor street fighter in Dublin. They wouldn’t have believed that she often wondered where her next meal was coming from. The girl was living the high life and thought she was invincible.

Tomorrow night would be the biggest night of her career. She was defending her title against a fast-rising star in Sasha ‘The Legit Boss’ Banks. Becky wasn’t worried though, she was unbeaten in her last twelve fights. Five of them by knockout, seven of them by submission. She was twenty-five, arrogant and proud of it.

Dave normally had a handle on her, but she had been getting wilder and wilder. Her head was too far up her own ass, but Dave knew she’d eventually get it out, he just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

Fortunately, Finlay didn’t have to take Becky far for the weigh-in. It was only a short elevator ride away. Before she left she put on the clothes that had become a part of her public image, black leather pants, a dark tank top, and a leather jacket. She threw on sunglasses as well, despite the fact that the weigh-in was indoors, her head was still killing her.

She let Finlay hustle her through a string of back hallways until he finally ushered her towards the casino’s media room. He knew that there was most likely going to be people mad that Becky was late. Her opponent, Sasha Banks, was already on the stage, looking irritated at having been made to wait for so long. Though apparently, she hadn’t been idle.

“...do you feel about Lynch not showing up on time?” a voice was asking from among the sea of reporters. Finlay took Becky’s arm and tried to urge her onto the stage but Becky held up a hand. She wanted to hear this.

“She’s got every reason to be scared of me, and she just showed the whole world what kind of woman she is. The kind that hides.” Banks said with a confident smirk on her face.

“That’s a bold statement about a woman who hasn’t lost in twelve fights,” the reporter said in response, clearly hoping that Banks would say more. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Lynch’s team schedules her powder puffs just so she can inflate her record. You know how many losses ALL my previous opponents had before they met me? Zero! I don’t fight walkovers just to inflate my record. I EARN my wins!” Banks said as she slapped the table for emphasis. Becky thought this was the right moment.

“Is that so little girl?” she said as she strode confidently onto the stage. As she did the assembled media stood as one, shouting questions at her as camera flashes popped all over the room. Becky stood there with her arms raised for a moment, basking in the attention. She then turned to glare over at Banks and said “you see that little girl? All I had to do was walk in the bloody room and no one cares about you!”

Banks narrowed her eyes in response as she said: “very cute, thanks for showing up on time.”

“Sweetie, the star doesn’t show up on time...that’s for the nobodies like you,” Becky said as she smirked over at her opponent. Banks didn’t answer, instead, she just waved her fingers dismissively at Becky before turning to face the media once more.

“Becky, where were you?” one of the reporters called to her as she sat down.

“Like I just told the nobody: the star doesn’t show up on time,” Becky said as she adjusted her sunglasses. She didn’t remove them, however.

“Were you out partying again?” someone else asked.

“When you’re the champ you’re always out partying when your Becky fucking Lynch the party comes to you,” she answered.

“Any thoughts on Sasha as a fighter? She’s 8-0 after all-” a reporter started to ask but Becky cut him off.

“I’m not from here I admit, and I don’t much about American schools except that they seem to churn out fat kids. But I assume that they teach basic maths? She’s what now? 8-0? That number is still smaller than twenty right? That didn’t change? Because I’m 20-2!” Becky snapped.

Sasha had sat quietly fuming through Lynch’s diatribe so far but here leaned forward and asked “Yeah? What was the combined record of those opponents?”

“I’m not talking to you girl,” Becky said dismissively.

But Sasha kept going, addressing the media now as she said “the answer is that less than half had winning records before they fought her,”

“Oh you can count can you?” Becky asked, finally turning to look at her opponent. She was sneering over at Banks, the other woman was wearing a ridiculous set of sunglasses that had the word ‘boss’ over the lenses on her forehead.

“Yeah, I can count, I’ll start with the numbers of hours until that title is mine! I can also count the TWO losses you have. What is that like? I wouldn’t know!” Sasha shot angrily over at Becky.

“Yeah? Well, count this ya cunt!” Becky said as she raised her middle finger to the other woman. Sasha stood quickly at this and so did Becky.

Sasha had every intention of storming over to confront Lynch at this, perhaps physically. She was only saved when she shot a quick glance out at the media. Her anger was genuine but she also knew that a weigh in the fight would drive interest in the fight. And if punching Lynch in her stupid face helped her in two ways then so much the better.

Then she caught sight of Bayley standing off to one side, holding the small video camera she always brought to press events. For half a second their eyes met. And in that half second Bayley’s professional mask dropped for just long enough for her to give Sasha a tight shake of her head. The message was clear: don’t do it.

Had anyone else in the world tried to restrain Sasha at this moment they would probably have failed. Not only did she not take well to authority in general but her blood was up. But Bayley was a special case. But she couldn’t just sit back down now, not now that she’d stood the way she had. It would mean a huge loss of face that she wouldn’t endure even for Bayley.

So, thinking on her feet, Sasha lowered her sunglasses. As she did she bent her knees, and slider her hips to one side before coming up with her hands making the ‘wave away the haters’ gesture. The whole pose had become a part of her ‘boss persona’ and the cameras lit up for it. When she’d done she reached over pulled her mic off the table, causing a loud feedback while.

Pulling the mic to her mouth she said: “I just thought you’d like to see what perfection looks like since it’s been so long since it’s been so long for you.”

“Oh you’re adorable aren’t you, I bet the boys just love your little shimmy,” Becky said with a condescending eye roll.

“Probably not as much as your girls, whichever ho you’re with today!” Sasha shot back.

“Alright! Alright!” shouted Brawl for All’s commissioner, Shane McMahon, as he finally stood and raised his hands. He’d let them argue so far but, ever the master of promotion, he’d sensed that the tension was just right now. Becky felt Finlay’s restraining hand on her shoulder. For a moment she was tempted to shake her trainer off but then gave an angry shrug. She’d looked forward to making this bitch squeal before she tapped out.

For her part, Sasha’s trainer, Bobby Lashley, bent down to whisper in her ear saying “cool it.”

“Alright ladies, let’s do this weigh in!” McMahon said brightly as she clapped his hands together. Both women allowed themselves to be led in front of the tables by their trainers. Both Finlay and Lashley then positioned themselves between the two women as they stripped down to their fighting gear. They then both stepped onto the large scales an waited.

As they did Becky spoke without turning to face Sasha saying: “are you enjoying this taste of the big leagues' bitch?”

Sasha gave her a fake sweet smile and answered: “I wouldn’t know, I’d need a big league opponent first.”

“Yeah enjoy yourself you little cunt, when I get you in the octagon I’m going to end this little charade of yours and make sure everyone knows you don’t belong,” Becky answered. Before Sasha could respond Shane McMahon spoke again.

“Alright ladies, photo time,” he said. Both Becky and Sasha turned to face each other, raising their fists up into the face of the other woman. Or at least Sasha did, Becky added her middle finger.

From her view across the room, Bayley sucked in her breath, concerned that Sasha might lose her cool at this. But fortunately, the two trainers hustled their charges away from each other before things could get ugly. Releasing her breath, Bayley kept recording for another minute before she closed her camera. Both fighters had left by now and Bayley would now spend the next few hours editing and writing.

“Well that was quite the show,” a familiar voice said from behind her. Turning Bayley found herself facing Mojo Rawley. Rawley was a fellow media member who ran a fairly well known MMA podcast called the ‘Hypecast’. He and Bayley often ran into each other and bigger events and they felt a kind of solidarity as two people who had come up through non-traditional media.

“Lynch never disappoints does she?” Bayley answered.

“No she does not, but I was referring to your girl Banks, she showed well,” Rawley said. Bayley’s heart leaped into her throat at this. How did Rawley know?

“Uh…” Bayley stammered, at a loss for words as she tried desperately to think of an explanation.

“You did those interviews with her, figured you might be a fan,” Rawley said, looking confused at Bayley’s startled reaction.

“Smooth dummy, why do you just tell him outright,” Bayley raged internally at herself before saying out loud: “you know we’re not supposed to be fans”. This seemed to satisfy Rawley as he laughed.

“Sure…” he said skeptically before he brightened and said “...hey you think you’ll have time to do the podcast tonight? I’m going to put a special short episode before the fight”. Bayley bit her lip as she thought hard. Despite what she’d told Sasha that morning she’d actually be tempted to visit her that night. Still, you couldn’t put a price on the kind of exposure doing live media brought you. Even a podcast the size of Mojo’s could mean a bunch of new readers. And besides, if she did the podcast then it would keep her from being able to go see Sasha.

“Alright, I’m in,” she said.

 

**The fight:**

The stands in Colosseum at Caesars Palace surrounding the octagon were packed, thousands of people had turned up to see Banks-Lynch fight. Video clips from the press conference and, in particular, the sound byte of Sasha saying that Becky had been fed weaker competition were being played over and over on the large video screens. The commentators for the fight were split in their speculation of who would win a decisive victory. The betting odds were almost even, with Becky holding only a slight edge at 3-1 over Sasha at 5-1. These odd’s changed slightly as a late surge of wagers pushed Sasha down to 4-1.

Becky's team, for the most part, had kept her in seclusion after the weigh-in debacle. Media access had been cut off and Becky confined to her suite. This edict had been handed down from Mr. Balor himself, he and his team knew their girl well. They didn't want her getting distracted by press headlines or worse by some pretty skirt.

"You need to go out there and focus." Finlay was trying to get Becky in the zone. He cupped her face, pressing their foreheads together. “Who are you?”

“I’m Becky fucking Lynch, Becky Balboa,” Becky said, her gaze locking with her coach and mentor.

“Who owns that cage?” Finlay challenged, trying to rile her up even more.

Becky let out a growl. “Me, it’s my turf.”

Finlay snorted. “You going to let her take it from you?”

“No.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Finlay asked, helping her finish taping up her hands. He helped her put her gloves on and stepped back, giving an awkward grimace. It was about as close to a look of approval as she was going to get.

Becky stood up off of her locker room bench, throwing a few combinations before glancing at him. Her gaze was total steel, arrogance rolling off of her in waves. “I’m going to take her arm and I am going to make that little girl tap out.”

“You better, I got money riding on you.” Finn Balor announced as he walked into Becky’s locker room.

“Finn, you walking me to the cage?” Becky asked, surprised to see him. He had already fought earlier in the night and had a black eye and stitches in his eyebrow as souvenirs.

Finn cracked a smile and shrugged. “I’m your good luck charm, don’t you dare forget it.” He was used to doing promotional events with Becky. They were the faces of Balor’s brand, it was only fitting that they back each other up.

Becky threw a few more combos, shadow boxing before she shrugged on her robe. “Well come on Balor, I got a clinic to put on and a Boss to demote.” She lifted the hood over her head, Finlay, Balor and a few security guards flanking her as she headed to the octagon.

Sasha was already in the Octagon as the challenger she had come out first to a surprisingly loud ovation. There were quite a few people that wanted to see Sasha dethrone Becky and take the title from her. Sasha took a moment to take in the crowd, she could see Bayley seated with the other media in the press section. She stared at her for a long moment before letting her gaze bounce around. She needed to stay focused on the task at hand, Becky doubted and underestimated her. That would be the Irish girl’s downfall and Sasha planned to take advantage.

“She’s cocky, she’ll come out you aggressive. Let her tire herself out, keep your guard up. No doubt she will showboat a bit when she does that you’re going to strike. Don’t let her get under your skin.” Bobby Lashley was saying. He had seen enough fights to know how it would go.

Sasha nodded her head, focusing on the sweat as it dripped from her trainers face. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Before almost every fight she would get hyper-focused on the little things, her blood pounding in her ears, like a deafening roar, so loud it drowned out Becky’s entrance music.

“Remember she’s got two inches of reach on you, don’t let her tie you up. Strike when you can, short jabs and kicks, knees and elbows if you can get them. You’re the better striker, but she may have you beat on submissions.” Lashley said before he took a deep breath, praying to god that Sasha would make it through this whole thing in one piece. He wanted her to win but Becky would be her toughest opponent to date.

Sasha’s gaze finally drifted to Becky, focusing in as Becky’s own entourage gave the champion a pep talk. Sasha was the dark horse in this fight, the younger star going up against the more cocky veteran.

Becky took off her bantamweight women’s belt and held it high in the air. “Take a nice long look girly, this is as close as you’re going to get to my bloody title.”

Sasha just sneered back at her, jumping foot to foot, trying to keep herself limber and pump herself up. “You talk too much Lynch. Time to see if the Irish really can fight, because your luck is about to run out.”

Becky growled and advanced on Sasha, but the ref stepped in between them, keeping them separated.

“I want a clean fight ladies, You know the rules. I don’t care where we are or how much money is on the line, you test me and you DQ’d.” The man said gruffly, before nodding for them to tap gloves.

Sasha held her gloves out and Becky just rolled her eyes, quickly tapping gloves before backing off into her corner. They both put their mouth guards in, waiting for the fight to begin.

The ref signaled for the fight to start and the bell rang. Just as Lashley had predicted Becky came out swinging from the gate, trying to bully Sasha around and set her own tempo for the fight. Becky was throwing some hard jabs, backing Sasha towards the side of the cage. She locked up with Sasha, trying to hook her right leg around the younger fighter’s so she could take her down.

Sasha struggled to stay on her feet, blocking Becky’s attempt to take her down. She tagged Becky’s ribs with a few quick shots, before punching the Irish girl hard right in the thigh and shoving her back. Becky just smirked and held up her thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. She was taunting Sasha again, trying to make the girl angry enough to make a mistake.

Sasha kept her focus however and advanced back on Becky, not letting the girl get that much of a breather. Lashley had warned her to stay on top of Becky, to keep the girl fighting even if it meant getting Becky to showboat a little bit.

“Come on champ.” Sasha challenged, throwing a few blistering jabs and a cross that caused Becky to stumble back a bit. Deciding to press her advantage, Sasha switched her stance so she could throw Becky off.

Trying to hook Becky’s legs, Sasha surged forward grabbed at Becky’s knees to try and take her down. Becky’s back hit the cage wall, and with one hand she held on for dear life to keep herself upright. She drove her elbow into the back of Sasha’s neck and back, trying to break Sasha’s attempt at getting her down. Sasha winced at the clubbing blows, roughly tagging Becky’s ribs in retaliation as she gave up on the takedown attempt.

Deciding to go at the champ another way, Sasha threw a couple stiff kicks at Becky’s side. She was trying to soften the Irish girl up but it only took a slightly sloppy kick for Becky to pounce. Becky caught Sasha’s leg and drove another hard elbow to the girl’s thigh. She then pushed as hard as she could, shoving Sasha down to the octagon mat.

Before Sasha could even react Becky was on top of her, driving hard shots at her face. Becky was out for blood, intent on drawing it before Sasha could. Sasha did her best to cover up and ride out the Irish woman’s onslaught. The fighter from Boston kept her own body moving, attempting to get out from under Becky.

Being flat on her back was not the position Sasha wanted to be in, not when Becky was as skill at submissions. Having studied enough fight tape, Sasha knew that most of the people who went down on the mat didn’t get back up without having to submit to the Irish Lass Kicker.

Deciding not to let that happen, Sasha finally managed a shot to the side of Becky’s head that sent her reeling. It didn’t buy her much time though before long Becky was back on her with a ferocious right hand that busted Sasha’s lip open. Blood poured from her cut lip, but thankfully before Becky could capitalize, the bell for the first round end.

Sasha slowly got to her feet, staggering over to her corner. She had lasted longer than Becky’s last four opponents. She was hurting a bit though, and thankful for the water that Lashley handed her, even if it did make the wound sting even worse. Sasha stayed still as her team tried to stop the blood pouring from her lip.

Even though her face was hurting Sasha was proud of herself. Everybody who had counted her out in the first round was wrong. She had survived and besides her injury could have been worse than a bleeding lip.

As the first round ended it was all Bayley could do to stay in her seat. She could lie to herself about being able to remain objective when Sasha was in the octagon as much as she liked. But when Lynch had been able to mount and punch on Sasha her heart had been in her throat. A feeling of deep dread had coiled in the journalist’s stomach. Lynch’s previous opponents had all gone down in the first round, and it had seemed that Sasha would too.

But she needn’t have worried, Sasha fought her way out of the predicament and a short time later the round had ended. Sasha looked battered but still defiant as she made her way back to her corner, thankfully under her own steam. And Bayley took a few moments to try and compose herself, hoping none of what she was feeling had shown on her face.

“Banks is done, she should be thrilled she made it out of that round,” someone muttered from behind her. Bayley looked down at the laptop on the table in front of her and took refuge in writing a short summary of the first round. As she did she just hoped whoever had spoken was wrong.

Becky sat in her corner of the octagon trying to catch her breath. Blood was still pounding in her ears and she was sure as hell that she could hear her heart beating so loud that it drowned out the crowd.

“You need to get in there and finish this. Stop playing with your food.” Finn said through the cage. He was a lot like Becky, he could showboat with the best of them. However, he also knew that Sasha was proving to be more of a challenge then Becky had accounted for.

Becky waved him off, her eyes narrowing in on Sasha across the octagon. “I got this.” She said, already trying to think of how she was going to make Sasha tap out.

Sasha was a lot tougher than Becky had accounted for, but it was time to give the Boss a demotion. Becky stood back up, stealing one last drink of water before marching to the middle of the octagon.

“What the fuck is she doing?” Finn demanded, wondering what kind of mind game Becky was playing at.

Finlay let out a gruff sigh. “Let’s hope her fist can cash the check her mouth is signing.”

“Come on Lass, ready for me to finish this thing? Why don’t you do me a favor and get on your back, I’ve heard that is what you’re good at. “ Becky called, still trash talking as she waited for Sasha to come to the middle of the ring and face her.

Sasha had heard enough, Lashley had been giving her some last minute tips but right now all she could see was Becky. She met her right in the middle of the cage, wanting nothing more to punch the smug smirk off of the Irish woman’s face.

As the second round began, Sasha was fighting with renewed energy as if the fight had just started. She had shaken off what had happened in the earlier round and she was ready to make Becky her bitch. She struck hard and fast, stinging crosses and jabs. A few high kicks that had Becky narrowly getting out of the way.

The intensity that Sasha came at her with, was unexpected but Becky kept her guard up. She grappled with Sasha for purchase, trying to stop the girl’s assault. Becky knew that she needed to slow Sasha down and establish her own control over the tempo of the match. She tried to back Sasha up into a corner and attempted to ram the younger fight into the unforgiving cage.

However, Sasha caught her with a savage kidney shot, followed up by a rough shot to the solar plexus that completely stopped Becky’s momentum. Becky lost her footing for a moment and dropped to a knee, long enough for Sasha to drive her knee roughly into Becky’s temple twice, dropping the Irish girl to the mat.

It was Sasha’s turn to mount Becky, and she went straight for it. Although Becky was dazed, she was still able to cover up her head out of reflex. She kicked at Sasha’s shins and knees, trying to protect herself, and not allow her challenger to get too much of an advantage.

The Boss was relentless in her own attack. She grabbed one of Becky’s thrashing legs and kicked her square in the knee. She then threw herself on top of Becky, punching her repeatedly in the face to soften her up.

Becky couldn’t recall the last time somebody had taken the fight to her like this. The champ wasn’t the type to give up though and jostled for position, trying to get Sasha under her. She tried to get Sasha in a choke hold, but Sasha blocked it easily enough.

Becky was breathing heavily now, the shots to her solar plexus had winded her while the shots to her face had busted her open. Blood was pouring down Becky’s face from the cut above her left eyebrow, making it hard for the champion to see.

Sasha could feel the champion’s warm and sticky blood, but she didn’t want to give Becky a chance to get too slippery which would make it hard to grapple. Becky was still moving her hips, trying to wiggle out of Sasha’s grasp, finally managing to do so they both got to their feet.

As Becky stumbled forward Sasha struck. Dropping she executed a perfect rolling kneebar, her legs scissoring around the limb as she torqued on Becky's right leg.  
“Tap,” Sasha growled, she could almost taste the championship.

“No!” Becky fired back indignantly, though that response was going to cost her.

Becky would have screamed in pain as Sasha cinched the hold tighter, thankfully she was still wearing her mouthguard. But she wasn’t about to give Sasha the satisfaction of tapping out. Becky bit into her glove, before trying to scratch and claw her way to the side of the cage. She was dragging all of Sasha’s body weight on her knee, and Becky wasn’t sure she had ever felt a pain like it. It felt excruciating, but her own pride was standing in Becky’s way.

There was the sickening pop as her knee dislocated that finally made Becky raise her hand and tap her hand against the mat. She hadn’t wanted to tap, she had tried to hold out, but the pressure on her knee was far too much. Tears were streaming down Becky’s face half from pain and the other half from the realization that she had just lost the one thing that meant the most to her.

Sasha didn’t realize at first that Becky had tapped out until the ref was tugging at her hands, telling her to let go of the hold. Finally releasing Becky, Sasha jumped to her feet, running over to her side of the cage and hugging both Teddy and Lashley. She couldn’t believe it, she was now the bantamweight champion. She had waited so fucking long to be able to call herself a real champion and now she was.

“You did it playa,” Teddy said, hugging her tightly.

Lashley even looked proud of her. “Good job Sasha.” He said patting her head. Sasha was absolutely beaming. She climbed up to the top of the cage, raising a celebratory fist towards the crowd.

Becky lay flat on her back, her knee drawn up to her chest. She was in pain but also feeling numb. She could feel Finlay trying to check on her, but her vision was blurred by the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

“Come on we need to get you up,” Finn said, trying to pull Becky to her feet. When she made no attempt to get up, he looked to Finlay and together they picked Becky up together, carrying her towards the trainers in the back. Ordinarily, a fighter didn’t leave the ring until after the announcement of the winner but even a casual glance revealed that something was very wrong with Becky’s knee.

She was deathly silent as the trainers stitched up her wound and then began to check out her injured knee. The second they touched it, she was surging forward trying to take swings at them.

“Don’t touch it.” Becky hissed breaking her silence, her knee was swollen and starting to turn some ugly shades of black and blue.

Finlay shook his head as he tried to hold her down. “You have to let them help you.” He demanded.

Becky growled like a wounded animal but allowed the trainers to check it out. The frowns on their faces were making her uneasy so she closed her eyes, trying to focus on something else.

“How bad is it?” Finn asked, casting a worried glance from Becky’s knee to the lead medical trainer.

“It really doesn’t look good, it’s clearly dislocated but she’s going to have to go to the hospital for further evaluation before we can be sure,” the head trainer said. He cast another critical gaze over Becky’s knee before adding quietly: “but if I had to guess I’d say she’ll be lucky if she’s doesn’t walk with a limp for the rest of her life, never mind fight again.” The man said, shaking his head. It was clear he felt bad for Becky but there was nothing he could do.


	2. Chapter 2: Redemption and Prosperity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky, Bayley, and Sasha deal with the fallout from the Banks-Lynch fight and how it has affected all their lives. While Becky seeks redemption with a new and unlooked-for ally, Sasha and Bayley learn to cope with success.

**Chapter 2:**

 

**Bayley:**

 

Bayley waiting patiently for the intro to stop playing in headphones and then watched as Mojo Rawley turned on his microphone saying: “Welcome back to another edition of the Hypecast, MMA’s #1 podcast for news, interviews, and insight my name is Mojo Rawley I am your host. On today’s episode, we’re going to be talking about the only thing ANYONE in MMA is talking about. Banks-Lynch and the upset of the century. The BFA Women's World Bantamweight Champion, Becky Lynch, forced to tap out in the just the second round. Joining me today is my guest, a woman who was there at the fight with me, ladies and gentlemen this is Bayley Martinez the owner and operator of MM-Ayley.com.”

 

“Hey Mo, thanks for having me back!” Bayley said happily. As usual, it took her a moment to get used to the sensation of hearing her own voice in her ears.

 

“You know it Bay, so you were there and you saw the same fight as me that night. So tell our listeners who might not have been able to watch it yet what you saw and what went down,” Mojo prompted her.

 

“I mean, I think I saw what everyone saw Mo. I saw ‘the Queen is dead, long live the Queen’ put into action live in the octagon. I think we all witnessed the birth of a new dominant force in the women’s bantamweight division,” Bayley answered as she flipped through some notes in front of her. She didn’t consider herself the best extemporaneous speaker so when she thought of a few good things to say on Mo’s podcast she usually noted them down.

 

“Really?...” Mojo asked sounding genuinely surprised “...you’re willing to already give Sasha Banks that kind of crown?”

 

“I don’t see how we can’t Mo. Becky Lynch has been so dominant for so long it’s been revolutionary to women’s MMA. And yet what we saw from Sasha Banks in the second round wasn’t just a victory but it was an almost offhand victory. She completely overwhelmed the champ and it wasn’t even close,” Baley said. Though she believed everything she had said as a journalist she couldn’t help but feel slight pangs of guilt as she spoke. Because of her complicated relationship with Sasha, it always felt wrong to praise her, even obliquely.

 

“I can’t disagree but still it seems early to be proclaiming Banks the new Queen of the division,” Mojo pointed out.

 

“Look she’ll have to prove it of course but if the Sasha Banks we saw in the second round is here to stay then I don’t see who could possibly beat her for that title now,” Bayley countered.

 

“Well first we’ll have to see if she can show up in the rematch whenever it takes place, I know there are thousands of people ready to click ‘buy now’ on Banks-Lynch #2,” Mojo said excitedly.

 

“I actually have some breaking news on that,” Baley said eagerly.

 

“Really? Care to share?”

 

“I don’t know...I shouldn’t...I mean I want people going to MM-Ayley.com Mo,” Bayley teased.

 

“Everyone go sign up for MM-Ayley’s email alerts and subscribe! Now spill!” Mo insisted quickly.

 

“A source inside CCS tells me that Becky Lynch’s knee injury was much worse than was initially thought. I’m told that the rehab alone could keep her out for a year and there are concerns that she might never fight again,”

 

 **Becky**  
  
The hotel room Becky was staying in was dark, the curtains were drawn tightly. It had been close to twelve hours since she had lost the title and all she could do was stare up at the ceiling. Gone were the girls who had been in her bed the day before. She was alone, the only thing near her was her ice pack.

 

Her phone was dead, she hadn’t even bothered putting it on the charger. No doubt she would have thousands of messages but it didn’t matter to her, she simply didn’t care. She felt hollow inside, sadness curling up in her chest like it was stuck at the base of her throat.  She had been listening to MoJo’s post cast when she heard what Bayley Martinez had said.  
  
It wasn’t like Becky to be affected by what some journalist said about her, but what had gotten her was that somebody in her camp sold her out. She had listened to it over and over again until her phone died. Bayley’s words playing hauntingly in her ear.  
  
“...She may never fight again.”

  
Becky wanted to chuck her phone at the wall. She had hardly slept, the pain keeping her hyper-vigilant. Becky did her best not to move, her knee was hurting like a bitch again. Finlay had been nice enough to help her prop it up and give her an ice pack. The ice had melted hours ago but she didn’t have the energy or the willpower to move her leg. She wasn’t sure she could even if she tried.

 

At the arena, the staff had given her crutches to use and tried to tape up her knee. She was supposed to have an appointment later but she didn’t even know what time it was. She had to pee, and with great effort tried to get herself up.

 

She grabbed her crutches, trying her best not to move her leg. She only made it a couple of steps before she ended up tripping. She fell hard to the carpet, the fall triggering the floodgates to open as her knee exploded in pain.

 

Rolling onto her back she just cried, cried because she was frustrated that she needed help. She cried because she was angry that she had lost her title and that some stupid doctor said her career might as well be over.

 

She laid there, allowing herself to cry before she forced herself up into a sitting position. She hit the nearest wall with the palm of her hand. Finlay’s room was next door and she kept hitting it over and over until finally, the tired looking Irish man let himself into her room.

 

“Why are you on the floor?” Finlay asked, moving over to her side. He didn’t reach down to help her up at first, waiting until she decided to extend her hands up to him.

 

Becky reached up to him, feeling like a child reaching for their dad after a bad fall. He helped her to the bed before she laid her head back down on the pillow.

 

“I had to piss, and I fell down,” Becky explained, unable to even look him in the eyes.

 

“You could have called.” Finlay pointed out before he looked away from her. “I can help you to the bathroom if you still need to go.”

 

Becky said nothing just nodded at him. She whimpered in pain as he managed to scoop her up carrying her to the bathroom. Dave Finlay was as gentle as he could be as he helped her in there. He knew that Becky was a proud woman and not really the type to want to be dependant on anybody.

 

Finlay started to pull at her sweats when she smacked his hand away. “I got it.” She mumbled, before clearing her throat. “Maybe put my phone on the charger, it’s dead or something.”

 

Her mentor sighed but left her in the bathroom, walking over to plug her phone into the charger for her. He was concerned, he had seen some pretty nasty injuries in his day but never one like hers.

 

Pulling out his own phone, he sent a message to Finn. Balor would be far better at getting through to Becky then he would. They had some weird connection, a mutual understanding that nobody else could quite grasp.

 

“Ay, Finlay.”

 

Finlay heard Becky calling for him and he walked back in, helping her wash up before he carried her back to her hotel bed.

 

“I messaged Finn for you. I don’t think you should be alone right now.” He took her ice pack bag and went to get her some new ice.

 

Becky shrugged her shoulders, eyes intent on him as she watched how easily he moved. Bitterness was welling up inside of her, and she folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child.

 

“I didn’t ask you to do that Dave.” She snapped in irritation.

 

Finlay tensed at his spot by the sink, he gripped the edge of it so hard his knuckles turned white. “You didn’t have to ask me to do that Lass. You may not understand this, but some of us actually care about you outside of the money and the accolades.”

 

His rebuttal silenced her, and he let out a gruff sigh and carried the new ice pack over to her, draping it across her knee. “He’ll be here soon, just stay put until he gets here.”

 

Becky watched him leave, finding herself alone once more. Pain echoed in her chest and she felt once more like the scrawny starving teenage Finn had found in Ireland. Her hands and her feet had always gotten her through the most trying times in her life and now it felt like her body was failing her.

 

Aside from the knee injury and the stitches it took to mend the gash near her eyebrow, the doctor also had feared that she had a concussion. She’d find out later when she actually went to see a specialist for her knee, she knew they’d be running the whole roulette wheel of tests. Becky was dreading it though, dreading finding out just how bad her knee was.

 

Becky wasn’t sure who she was without fighting, sure she had money saved, but she wasn’t the type of person who could work a boring nine-to-five paper-pushing job. She returned her gaze once more to the ceiling, wondering what higher power she’d have to pray to, to fix her knee.

 

The silence felt crippling, as though it was a heavy weight placed on Becky's chest, slowly crushing the air from her body. She had never felt so thoroughly beaten down and discarded before. She was furious at herself for losing the fight, it was safe to say the girl was throwing herself a pity party for one.

 

It wasn't long before Balor let himself into her hotel room. He took one look at her and gave a little scoff. "You look like shit."

 

"You don't look any better," Becky replied, though her usual fire was lacking. She felt the bed dip as Finn crawled on the mattress next to her.

 

"I can take you to your doctor's appointment." Finn offered, it didn't take a rocket scientist to be able to detect the actual concern in his voice. The reason he and Becky had always gotten along so well was that they were cut from the same mold.

 

Becky gave a non-committal shrug. "It's not like I can get there by myself." She finally turned her head to look at him, noticing the fact that his eyes were closed. "I don't know if I'll be able to fight again." It was hard to say it out loud, hard to force the words out from her throat where they felt stuck in a lump.

 

"So what." Finn challenged, his eyes opening narrowing slightly. He had never known Becky to be one who gave up.

 

"I don't know who I am without fighting. Balor's Celtic Combat Sports brand and The Fighting Irish would drop me, we both know that." Becky replied, knowing damn well that they wouldn't keep a crippled fighter on their payroll.

 

Finn grimaced and waved her off. "My father may own it, but one day the brand will be mine. I'm already the face of it, I have pull." He assured her, he wasn't about to leave her behind. "It's you and me, Bex, it always has been for the last decade."

 

There had been a time where Becky was sure that she was going to marry Finn, she had slept with him before but they had developed a more platonic relationship. They both slept with whoever they fancied but at the end of the day, she knew she could trust him. He was the closest thing to family she had these days outside of Finlay.

 

"You're going to be okay Bex, I've got you," Finn promised her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before pulling her close to his chest. "Sleep, I'll wake you when it's time for your appointment."

 

**_(Later that day)_ **

 

Becky found herself once more feeling numb as she stared at the x-ray and results in front of her. She could hear the doctor talking, but his words weren't even registering. The plastic office chair she was sitting in felt uncomfortable, her nails were digging into it, trying to keep her anchored.

 

"Ms. Knox, did you hear me?"

 

It was the use of her real name that broke Becky out of her trance. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to focus on the doctor. His hair was peppered grey and white, and he looked extremely tired. She had already forgotten his name, but he was one of the top level orthopedic surgeons in the country

 

"No, I am sorry, what did you say?" Becky asked, tiredness coating her voice.

 

The doctor gave a small and unhappy sigh. "I said you've completely dislocated your knee and torn all the ligaments. You're going to be lucky if you can walk again without a limp. We're going to need to do surgery, the sooner the better."

 

Becky just stared at him, letting his words wash over her. She willed herself not to cry in front of him and turned her head to stare at the clock on the wall. There was a part of her that felt he might as well be announcing her death.

 

"Go ahead and schedule the surgery."  It wasn't Becky's voice though that said the words, instead it was Finlay's. He had been the one to go in with her to the doctor and had been the one sitting next to her as the doctor had examined her.

 

"I think we can fit her surgery in for later this evening, I just need to make sure we have a clear operating room." The doctor said, excusing himself from the room and sending his nurse back in to help schedule Becky's surgery.

 

Finlay was watching Becky with a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

 

"No." Her reply was short and to the point.

 

"Do you want anything? Like a snack?"  Finlay asked, trying to get some sort of response from her that wasn't apathetic.

 

Becky slowly shook her head. "I can't eat before surgery." She pointed out, letting her head fall back against the wall. She was praying that surgery would be quick, though judging from the x-rays and what the doctor had said, she seriously had her doubts about it.

 

**_(One Month Later)_ **

 

**Sasha**

 

“Not the arms damn it, use your hips! Don’t cheat yourself of the power!” Bobby Lashley snapped at Sasha Banks as she drove her fist into one the pads he wore on this hands. Sasha grumbled something in response but did as he said. Sure enough, when her left cross hit the pad on his right hand it did so with markedly more power.

 

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? If I’m striking at 50% I can still knock this bitch out,” she said as she switched to uppercuts when Lashley moved the pads. She was about to smirk about this when something suddenly boxed on the side of the head hard enough to send her staggering. “What the fuck was that?” she demanded of Lashley as soon as she could get her mouth guard out.

 

Lashley leveled a sausage sized finger at her and said “it MATTERS because you respect every single opponent you get into that octagon with! Hear me? EVERY one! You can be the ‘the Boss’ out in the world if you fucking want but when you are in the ring you are Sasha Banks, the woman smart enough not to buy her own shit!”

 

Sasha glowered at him angrily for a few moments before she put her mouth guard back in and resumed her punching. The simple fact was that she knew Lashley was right, even if she would never admit it to him. She even appreciated him checking her on some level, though again she’d never tell him that.

 

Sasha’s who life had changed dramatically since she’d won the Bantamweight title in Las Vegas. Before that she’d been a brash relative unknown on the MMA scene. Since then she’d done two magazine covers, a dozen interviews, and been on TV several times. She had really made it finally.

 

The mainstream media usually only paid passing attention to MMA, but they’d loved Sasha Banks. When they’d gotten wind of her ‘Boss’ persona they’d eaten it up. Grainy clips of Sasha before her earliest fights began doing the rounds on the internet and she’d suddenly become a hot booking. The highlight had come two weeks ago when Teddy had told her that she was booked to appear on the hottest nighttime talk show in America: Edge TV.

 

Interestingly the show’s producers had asked if Sasha could do the WHOLE interview in her ‘Boss’ persona. She’d thought this was weird but she’d been willing to agree. That was until she’d mentioned it Bayley via a text message. Her friend’s reply message had been unequivocal.

 

“ _Don’t do that”_

 

 _“Why not?”_ Sasha had sent back, confused and slightly annoyed by the answer.

 

“ _Just no”_

 

Sasha had still been annoyed when this second message had arrived and had briefly considered ignoring Bayley. After all, they weren’t official or anything. But then she’d told herself that Bayley had yet to give her bad advice and besides, she didn’t much like the idea of being told to perform on command. It was sort of the opposite of what ‘the Boss’ stood for.

 

In the end, Sasha had compromised. When she’d been introduced on the show she’d come out with her ‘Boss’ sunglasses and attitude. And she’d certainly given ‘boss like’ answers during the interview, but she’d still always been just Sasha Banks. Then they’d played a round of giant Jenga and it was hard to be ‘the Boss’ while doing that.

 

But now it was time to get back to work. Teddy Long had wanted to try and stretch Sasha’s celebrity a bit longer but in the end, had bowed to the advice of Lashley and the rest of the training team. Almost immediately after winning the title Sasha had announced that she would be a new type of MMA champion. She would be defending the gold in less than four months against the new #1 contender now that Lynch wouldn’t be able to have her rematch.

 

Long had tried to dissuade her from this but Sasha, full ‘boss’ mode, had insisted. And so the paperwork had been signed and Sasha was set to defend her title against Japanese fighter named Asuka Kana. Kana had actually already been the world Featherweight champion but had recently shed weight in order to enter the Bantam division. Initially, she’d done this hoping to face Becky Lynch, but now she’d have to face the Boss.

 

“Kana is too damned good for you to be looking past her unless you want the shortest title reign ever!” Lashley said, bringing Sasha back the present. It was true, Kana was very good. But Sasha knew just want to say to Lashley.

 

“I’m too damned good for her,” she said as she got back to work.

 

**Becky**

 

"Ms. Knox, your physical therapist will see you now."

 

Becky slowly rose up from her waiting room chair and limped after her the attendant. She could see the chipper look on the PT assistants face and grimaced. She helped herself up on the table and carefully removed her knee brace.

 

"What's your pain level at today?"

 

Becky glanced at the girl's name badge. "Well Kelly, my pain level is at a four," Becky replied, turning her attention back to her right knee. She hated looking at it, hated seeing the prominent scar and how atrophied her right leg looked compared to the left one. Her knee was still swollen and discolored various shades of black, purple and blue.

 

"It is looking better." Kelly offered, still wearing her perky yet annoying smile. She wrote down what Becky said and then got her a heat pack to help loosen her knee up.

 

The Irish Lass Kicker just stared past her, Finlay had for the most part taken her pain pills and had begun only giving them to Becky when he felt like she needed them. It pissed her off, mostly because it was the only thing that made her not feel as empty inside.

 

Kelly came back over after some time and smiled at Becky. "We're going to try a few new exercises today okay? We're gonna try for two sets of ten heel raises, two sets of five half squats, and ten minutes on the stationary bike."

 

Becky perked up just slightly, it was far better than the stuff they had been making her do which was stretching. She didn't want to just do stretching, she wanted to get back to where she had been before her surgery. Kelly still made her do the stretching much to Becky's irritation but she managed to power through it, simply because it meant that she could get to do the other things.

 

The heel raises were hard, Becky's knee still felt stiff and awkward, it felt like there was a catch in her knee. Grunting and straining against the pain she kept going, trying to power through them.

 

"You can't rush progress, Ms. Knox, you have to go slow and take your time," Kelly warned her, not wanting to see Becky hurt herself again.

 

"I'm fine," Becky grumbled, though she already felt gassed by the time she had made it through the heel raises and half squats. She glanced towards the stationary bike, trying to give herself a mental pep talk.

 

Kelly was looking a bit worried and making some marks in Becky's medical chart. "Perhaps we should wait for the next session before we try the exercise bike."

 

"No, I can do it now." Becky insisted, not willing to let anybody get in the way of her progress. Perhaps she was too headstrong and stubborn, but that was just part of who she was.

 

Kelly watched with concern but she had learned from the past few sessions that Becky was incredibly difficult to work with. She helped Becky onto the bike and set the time to allow the girl pedal for ten minutes.

 

Becky pedaled slowly first, trying to get her knee to bend and extend like it was supposed too. Her quads and her knee were on fire, but she gritted her teeth unwilling to admit defeat. She only made it three minutes before tears were streaming down her cheeks.

 

"Okay that is enough," Kelly said, trying to help Becky off. She didn't want the girl to get hurt and set her recovery back, by trying to do too much right away.

 

The former fighter was furious as she quickly put her shoes on. "I could have handled it."

 

"You would have reinjured yourself, Ms. Knox," Kelly warned, trying to get the girl to see reason.

 

"I don't need you!" Becky growled, hating that she was still having to rely on people to help her. She hated not being in control, control was something that she craved.

 

The physical therapist's chipper smile finally started to fade. "I am just trying to help you, if you could just lower your voice and remain calm, we can discuss this like adults."

 

Becky scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Why do you care? It would have gotten you more business if I hurt myself." She hissed meanly. She grabbed her stuff and limped out, walking to her car. Finlay would have kicked her ass if he saw her, but he was helping the Balors with something, so he had sent one of his more trusted proteges to be Becky's ride to physical therapy.

 

Getting in the car Becky scrolled through her phone, checking her messages. She didn't feel like talking to any of her close friends, she just wanted to drink and have fun. She noticed she had a message from Carmella one of the girls who held up the signs in between bouts.

 

Becky had seen her around but had never really paid her any attention. Carmella had always tried to get at her, but Becky had always been to busy flirting with other people or fighting. She decided to message the girl and see if she wanted to grab a drink.

 

As odd as it sounded, Becky was feeling irritated and discouraged after PT, so she decided she was up for some fun. Perhaps Carmella could be just the right amount of fun she was looking for or at least distract her from the pain.

 

**_(Many Month’s Later)_ **

 

**Sasha**

 

“Sasha! You’re now 3-0 since winning your title and just set a BFA record for the fastest win ever, how does that feel champ?”

 

“You know I could tell you that this feels amazing, and that I’m so humbled, and that I’m just happy to be here but I’d be lying to you if I did. And the Boss doesn’t lie, so let me put it this way homie. It’s special to you, it’s special to everyone else, but to me? This is just how I live!” Sasha answered the question as she adjusted her ‘Boss’ sunglasses.

 

She was just leaving her palatial mansion condo in LA and had, as usual, been greeted by a mob of assembled media. She’d grown used to this by now, just as she’d grown used to so many other big changes in her life. The biggest being that she, a girl who grew up poor in Boston, now had more money than she knew what to deal with.

 

Her third-round TKO victory over Asuka had netted her 2.2 million. Sasha's follow up fight against Bianca Bellair had set a new record for a female MMA fight, her own takehome had been 4.1 million. And as the reporter had indicated, that had been for less than twenty seconds worth of work.

 

“Who was the brunette you were with a few days ago before the fight?” someone else called. Sasha didn’t break her stride but she felt an inward twist of her stomach. They could only be referring to when she and Bayley had tried to steal a dinner together. Someone had obviously leaked their location and Bayley had forced to leave via the restaurant’s back door. Fortunately, no one had gotten a picture of her. Sasha knew this because if they had it would have been all over the internet.

 

“You think I remember every piece I spend time with?” Sasha asked airily as she headed toward her car. This was the answer she and Bayley had agreed she’d give.

 

“Who are you going to fight next?” another reporter asked.

 

“Who CAN I fight next man? I feel like I”m out of real competition in this division!” Sasha declared.

 

“What about AJ Lee? She’d undefeated through six fights just like you were when you won the title!” the reporter pressed. Sasha turned to face him and lowered her sunglasses a fraction of an inch as she bent down into her car.

 

“I said I’m out of COMPETITION...there are plenty of walkovers left around for the Boss,” she declared. Instead of getting into her car she stepped back onto the sidewalk and did her signature hip sway pose once for the cameras. They ate up of course. And then a moment later she was gone.

 

**Bayley**

 

“Ms. Martinez, thanks for coming to see me,” John Layfield said as he stood from the opposite side of the table. Bayley took his hand and briefly allowed her own to be engulfed by it.

 

“My pleasure Mr. Layfield, it’s not every day the head of the Viper Fight League reaches out to me for a meeting,” she said as she sat down.

 

“No, the pleasure is all mine ma’am. I’m a big fan of yours,” Layfield said. He spoke in a broad Texas drawl that only seemed to accentuate his big frame.

 

“Thank you, I didn’t think someone as big time as you would read my blog,” Bayley answered. She was pleased with the compliment but also somewhat leery.

 

“You’re the best damned MMA writer in the business in my book,” Layfield told her. Rather than answer Bayley just smiled.

 

She wasn’t entirely sure whey she was here. Layfield’s people had asked for the meeting but hadn’t ever told Bayley what it was about. So far all she’d learned was that Layfield liked to eat in restaurants where a single ticket would pay Bayley’s grocery bills for the month. She was actually feeling mightily out of place at the moment. She’d done her best with her appearance but she couldn’t help but feel she was sticking out among all the elegantly dressed people.

 

“So let me get right down to it Ms. Martinez, I want you on my team,” Layfield said as she stared intently across the table at her.

 

“What do you mean?” Bayley asked.

 

“I’d like you to become one of the VFL’s web writers, we’ve got a good group at VFL.com but I think you’d be a damned fine addition,” he said.

 

“You can always just link my stories from my site,” Bayley said, unsure why on earth she would suggest this to him. But Layfield just shook his head.

 

“I want your name in-house, it means something in MMA and it would be a big win for our web team,” he explained.

 

“What would that mean for my site?” Bayley asked.

 

“We’d want your exclusive by-line so you’d have to take it down,” Layfield said. Bayley’s heart sank at this and it must have shown on her face because Layfield added: “of course I know how much it means to you so we’d pay you at a figure that should help compensate”. He then named a figure that made Bayley’s eyes widen in surprise. It was more than most major sports writers made at large outlets.

 

But she still hesitated as she bit her lip and thought furiously. Layfield was offering her economic security in return for doing what she loved. And yet MMA-yley.com was much more than just a website to her. It had been her passion since she’d graduated from college with a writing degree. She’d spent countless hours grinding away for it, providing content that would be seen by almost no one. In some ways, she missed those days.

 

She missed the thrill of waking up to see that one of her posts had gotten a handful of views and shares. Feeling free to celebrate with too much whiskey the first time one of her stories had received 100 views. She’d lost little perks like these with more success. Not that ever regretted how far she’d come but sometimes it was hard not to look back with nostalgia. But now she had a chance to really improve her life and she had to do was accept Layfield’s offer and take down her site.

 

It was foolish to even have to think about this, she told herself. Just take the deal and start writing for VFL. She’d get over the loss of her site in time. Or at least that’s what she told herself over and over again. Layfield didn’t press her for an answer that night, only asking that Bayley get back to him by the end of the week.

 

“ _You shouldn’t take the job_ ,” Sasha Banks told her on the phone later that night.

 

“Why not? It’s a great opportunity,” Bayley insisted.

 

“ _Because I’ve met Layfield and he’s slimy, and I’ve heard all the VFL writers do is write puff pieces for their fighters,”_ Sasha answered.

 

“Since when do you read MMA news? Or anything for that matter?” Bayley asked, legitimately surprised.

 

_“Ha-Ha...I’m just trying to save you from doing something I know you’ll regret later,”_

 

Bayley was surprised by this answer. Surprised and touched. She knew that Sasha was a lot more vulnerable and sweet than her ‘Boss’ persona suggested. But she’d noticed more and more recently that she showed it less, even with Bayley. This had left her feeling slightly alone but she hadn’t said anything. But here now was a reminder why Bayley continued to jeopardize her professional standing and reputation for the other woman.

 

After a long pause, she asked: “...you really think I shouldn’t do it?”

 

 _“He doesn’t deserve you,”_ Sasha said simply. Bayley thought silently about this for a long time. Eventually, Sasha asked, “ _am I seeing you again soon?”_

 

“You going to be able to sneak away?” Bayley asked.

 

“ _Probably not soon, training hard you know?”_

 

“Then you can let one of your OTHER women keep you entertained,” Bayley teased.

 

“ _It’s not like that and you know it_ ,” Sasha said sounding wounded. Bayley knew that Sasha slept with other women, and sometimes men. And while she’d be lying if she said this didn’t hurt a little she didn’t have much room to complain. She was the one who refused to allow them to be ‘official’ so long as Sasha was living the life she did. Bayley wasn’t much for the party lifestyle.

 

“Whatever you say ‘Boss’...” she said teasingly before her voice sobered and she added, “...but Sasha?”

 

“ _Yeah?”_

 

“Thanks for the advice,”

 

Bayley turned down Layfield’s offer the first thing the next morning. She then returned to work turning MM-Ayley.com into something special that she could share with the world.

 

**Becky**

 

“You know we need to do this right?” Dave Finlay asked, looking to Balor, Sheamus and a few of the other Balor's Celtic Combat Sports athletes. Finlay had assembled them and The Fighting Irish squad because he wanted to hold an intervention with Becky. It had been six months of utter chaos after her surgery.

 

Becky was drunk more often than not, hoarding her pills and getting pain pills from her little girlfriend Carmella. The self-proclaimed Princess of Staten Island had been nothing but a bad influence on Becky. Carmella would get Becky into all sorts of fights, and quite honestly the relationship was toxic, it was like everybody but Becky could see that.

 

“I know why we need to do this, but Becky isn’t going to take it well.” Finn already knew what Becky would do if she felt cornered. She had been taking shots and swipes at them anytime mentioned her possibly having a problem.

 

“Either we handle it or your dad does.” Finlay knew the senior Balor would have no problem throwing Becky to the wolves.

 

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose, he felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I’ll handle it, let’s just get this intervention over with.” He checked his watch, knowing at any moment Becky would be walking through the door. Finn practically had to beg her to show up, saying he’d buy her lunch.

 

The second Becky walked in, she raised a brow, surprised to see Finlay, Sheamus, Finn and some of her other friends. “What’s going on?” She asked hesitantly, her guard already up.

 

“We need to have a talk with you,” Finn said, nodding to Sheamus to block the door. He needed Becky to listen to him, her erratic behavior was getting worse and worse.

 

Becky felt her heart thudding in her ears, her fight or flight instincts kicking in. “Why?” She said the word softly.

 

“You’re making us look like assholes, Becky. We worked hard to build this brand and you're sabotaging it.” Sheamus said as he leaned his back against the door.

 

Finn groaned, shooting the taller man a glare. This was not the way to get Becky to listen to them. “What Sheamus means, is that you’re acting reckless and it’s not doing you any favors.”

 

Becky’s demeanor shifted and she balled her fist. “So what are you trying to say, Finn?

 

“If you keep going down this path, my dad will fire you. There are no ifs, and or buts about it Bex. You need to come to heel.” Finn warned. He hated seeing Becky like this, but she was giving him no choice.

 

Finlay reached into his briefcase and pulled out a variety of magazines, most of which features Becky on the covers. “Becky Lynch - former champion now a disgraced Athlete. Becky Lynch - from the top of the mountain to the bar floor.” Finlay tossed them at her feet, giving a disgusted sigh.

 

“Your little cunt keeps talking to the media, she isn’t on your side. She’s selling you out.” Finn hadn’t like Carmella and now that she had her claws in Becky, he was concerned. “She’s dragging you down.”

 

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Becky growled grabbing a handful of Finn’s shirt, ready to punch him out.

 

“You do that and you’re done.” Finlay had tried to be there for her, but he was getting tired of being burnt repeatedly.

 

Becky turned on him, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “I don’t need you, you bastard. You can quit on me, you’re fired.” She snapped, her hold on Finn loosening.

 

Finlay rose to his feet and just shook his head at her. “I hope you figure your shit out, kid.” He then pushed his way out of the room, unable to be around her anymore. He couldn't watch her destroy herself, it was killing him inside.

 

Sheamus followed him out, unable to look at Becky any longer. Their disappointment in her was palpable, but Becky didn’t care.

 

“You going to leave me to.” She asked locking eyes with Finn.

 

“You keep burning these bridges Rebecca and soon you’ll find there won’t be anybody around. You think your little girlfriend is going to love you when your money runs out because I can guarantee you she won’t.” Finn stared at her, trying to find any glimpse of the girl he had grown up in Ireland.

 

Becky felt her heartbreak in half, tears of anger and frustration threatening to fall. “You can go to hell, I don’t need you, Finn. I’m fine by myself.” She spat, she roughly slapped him across the face trying to get a reaction out of him. “Fire me, you bastard I don’t care.”

 

Finn touched his stinging cheek and clenched his teeth, trying his best not to react with more violence. “We’re done Bex, your contract is terminated effective immediately, you are no longer part of Balor's Celtic Combat Sports or the Fighting Irish. I wish you the best but stay the hell away from me and my company. You’re no longer welcome.” With that Finn turned and walked out of the room, leaving Becky alone with just the magazines that detailed her spiral.

 

Becky waited until he was gone before she sank down into her seat, tears rolling as waves of sadness washed over her. The Balor's Celtic Combat Sports and the Fighting Irish had always been her family. Finn had always been her family and she wasn’t sure who she was without them.

 

She wasn’t sure how she’d bounce back, but she was going to make them all pay for giving up on her. It felt like the whole world was against her and counting her out. Becky was going to make them all regret the day they had written her off.

 

**_(One year after the Lynch/Banks fight)_ **

 

**Bayley**

 

“Like this?” Bayley asked as she stared directly at the camera a few feet in front of her.

 

“A bit higher, at the red light,” the ESPN producer told her. Bayley nodded, trying hard to keep her incandescent grin from her face. It was all she could do not to hug the man. After so many years of hard work and toiling in obscurity, she’d finally made it. She was going to be on ESPN. Who cared if it was only a three-minute hit? It was still on the worldwide leader.

 

In the months since Sasha’s fight with Becky Lynch Bayley’s own career had begun to take off. Her site now counted its hits in the tens of thousands rather than hundreds. Here articles regularly made it onto aggregate sites and she was becoming a sought-after expert interview on MMA topics. And now came the crowning achievement.

 

“Remember, you won’t be able to see them but you’ll hear them on a four-second delay so just try to act as naturally as you can. Your tendency will be to try and gesture like we all do but just remember not to,” the producer explained as he clipped a mic to Bayley’s shirt.

 

Despite the fact that Bayley would only be appearing from the shoulders up she’d taken great care with her entire outfit and makeup. A simple white undershirt, and a white jacket, with just the barest amount of makeup. Bayley wanted to be taken seriously, so she kept it to just eyeliner and eyeshadow.

 

“Can you give me any more pointers?” Bayley asked nervously. Her excitement from mere moments before having turned into trepidation.

 

“Just be yourself, they asked you on the show because they wanted YOU,” the man said. Bayley nodded, she wasn’t sure if that advice was actually helpful but it felt like it was. It also settled a small debate she’d been having with herself up until that very moment. Reaching up she pulled her hair out of its bun and gathered it into her trademark side pony.

 

“Now I’m ready,” she said.

 

“You’re a natural, they’ll love it,” the producer said as he moved to stand behind the camera. Bayley was doing the hit from inside her house in the room where she did most of her writing and editing. The background wall behind her would be covered in MMA memorabilia. A moment later the producer held up five seconds and began counting backward. When his last finger dropped Bayley heard a voice in her earpiece.

 

“ _Let’s welcome in my guest, she is the owner and operator of MM-Ayley.com, one the webs BEST sites for MMA news and analysis. All of it provided by this woman, Bayley Martinez. Bayley, thank you so much for joining me today_ ,” came the voice Montel Porter, the ESPN host.

 

“Thank’s for having me,” Bayley said, smiling at the camera.

 

“ _So we’re one year removed from the Banks-Lynch fight that marked the end of the title reign of Becky Lynch and the beginning of the meteoric rise of Sasha Banks in the women’s bantamweight division. Bayley, you were at that fight, at the time could you have ever guessed that we’d be where we are now? With Sasha Banks dominating the division and Becky Lynch almost literally falling off the face of the earth?_ ”

 

“Honestly Montel no, I could never have foreseen this. Unlike many of colleagues at the time I thought that Banks had a great chance of winning but HOW she won was truly remarkable. Of course, we all assumed there would be a rematch if Lynch lost but thanks to her knee injury we were robbed of that.” Bayley told the camera.

 

“ _Let’s talk about Sasha Banks. Since that fight, she’s been on a brutal schedule of training and fights and she’s now 3-0 as champ. The Boss has not only been dominant but has also become a genuine cultural figure. You see her everywhere wearing the glasses. You interviewed Sasha Banks very early in her career, did you see the potential for what we have now back then?”_

 

Bayley’s heart and jumped at the mention of that first interview but she kept it from her place as she said “you know I’d love to tell you that I did and that I somehow knew this was all going to happen but I can’t. The Sasha Banks I talked to wasn’t ‘the Boss’ yet and all I knew about her was that she was a great striker. We still see that but I don’t think anyone could honestly claim that they KNEW this was all going to happen.”

 

“ _Sasha Banks says that she has no true competition left in the bantamweight division. As I look around at the possible contenders for her title I have to say I don’t think she’s wholly off base. Can you see anyone right now who represents a clear threat to her title?”_

 

“You know I don’t think that it’s wise for us or for Sasha to think like that. No one gets to the pro level in MMA without being a dangerous fighter. Any given night any of them could have their own moment like Sasha had against Becky Lynch,” Bayley countered.

 

“ _Maybe so but you gotta admit that the Boss’ swagger has served her well so far, and to my point, you didn’t name anyone specifically that you thought could beat her,”_

 

Bayley grinned as she answered “alright if you want some specific names I’d say that Sarah Logan has the kind of ground game that could give Banks some trouble in an extended fight. Katie Lee Burchill has enough size that she might be able to keep Bank’s at bay while she waited for her moment.”

 

“ _Okay, Okay, let's hope we see one or both of those fights then! Now let’s go to the other person who was in the cage over a year ago. Becky Lynch went through a very public and very steep nosedive in the months after that fight. We know she slacked on her rehab and that in the end, Celtic Combat Sports dropped her. Now it’s been a while since anyone heard from her at all. Why do you think things went so badly so quick for her?”_

 

Bayley had to think about her answer for a moment before she said: “I want to say that I’ve never met Becky Lynch so I’m just speculating here-”.

 

“ _That’s OK we love that here!”_

 

“Well, then I would say that, from what we’ve all heard for years, Becky Lynch really defined herself by her greatness in the octagon. And I think the news she got, learning that she might never fight again...that would be jarring for anyone. But for someone who had sort of built their identity around themselves as a fighter? I can’t even imagine what that would do to your head.”

 

_“Wow, Bayley Martinez: MMA writer extraordinaire and shrink!”_

 

Bayley laughed as she said: “Don’t worry I just play one on TV.”

 

“ _I love it! So one final question for you Bayley. Seemingly no one in the MMA world knows where Becky Lynch is now, or what she might be doing. Where do you think she is and if you could talk to her what would you tell her?”_

 

“I wouldn’t want to try and speculate on where she is or what’s she’s doing Montel. Wherever and whatever I hope she’s happy and doing well. And if I could talk to her right now I’d say what I just told you and add that I hope someday we can see her back in the cage.”

**Becky**

 

Becky let out a shiver as she limped down a sidewalk in Boston, she tugged her dark hoody around her trying to fight the cold. She was looking for something in particular when a video screen in a corner store caught her attention. She saw a video playing, a familiar face on the screen.

 

It was her fight from a year ago against Sasha. She winced as she saw Sasha Banks drive her knee into her temple. A moment later the picture changed into a split screen. On the left was Montel Porter, the host, and the right was a woman who was vaguely familiar looking to Becky though she couldn’t place her until a name flashed up under her smiling face. Bayley Martinez, that was it, she was some kind of MMA writer.

 

Becky frowned as she noticed that woman had her hair up in a side ponytail. She was thinking of rolling her eyes when she saw the closed captions rolling across the bottom of the screen. One thing, in particular, had caught her attention, her own name. They were discussing her. She stood staring through the window for another minute until the interview wrapped up.

 

Though she couldn’t hear the TV through the glass, as the segment closed she watched and read as Martinez said: “...Wherever and whatever I hope she’s happy and doing well. And if I could talk to her right now I’d say what I just told you and add that I hope someday we can see her back in the cage.”

 

Becky sighed at this as she turned and made to walk away. As she did her mind went, unbidden, back to the fight and the ensuing months. It was astounding how much it had affected both her and Banks. Sasha had become a star and here Becky was jobless and barely four months sober.  She hadn't talked to Finn in close to six months, she had hit rock bottom and she hardly recognized herself. Rehab had been hard for her, but she had completed ten weeks there and was trying to somewhat get her life in order.

 

She had received a strange envelope at the halfway house she was staying at the week prior. The envelope contained a ticket to Boston, an address, and only a few sentences scribbled on a page.

 

'We’ve all have fallen short at times in our life. We're owed a fresh start once in a while, so here's your chance. Take the ticket to Boston and go to this address, ask for Ric. He'll help you, I told him to expect you. - S.'

 

Becky figured the letter was from Sheamus but she didn't know if he knew anybody in Boston. On a whim and mostly because she had nothing else to do, she had taken the ticket and gone to Boston. Now she was wandering the streets looking for this Ric guy's address. Something stopped her then from walking away and she turned back to the TV. It seemed that ESPN wasn’t done discussing the fight.

 

She watched herself tapping out to Sasha and then frowned as a clip of experts talking at the time about how it was likely she would never be a top fighter again. The picture then shifted to a few commentators ripping into her and talking about how much of a basket case she had become. It was a veritable lowlight reel of the past year. Being fired by Balor, her messy relationship with Carmella, her DUI conviction, being sent to therapy, and so many more incidents. It hurt to even look at it, but her therapist at the rehab said she needed to own up to her mistakes.

 

She felt somebody next to her and turned her head to see a young girl staring at her. "Isn't that you? Aren't you Becky Lynch?" The little girl asked, eyes full of excitement at actually meeting a celebrity.

 

Becky grimaced and sadly shook her head. "I used to be Becky Lynch, now I'm just Rebecca Knox." She gave the girl a sad smile but obliged when the girl asked to take a picture with her. It wasn't often that she met fans these days, most of them had turned against her. Besides Balor's Celtic Combat Sports had a new face next to Finn’s. Her name was Nikki Cross and it was already speculated that she’d someday challenge Sasha Banks.

 

It was almost comical to Becky, Nikki wasn't even Irish but had been allowed to join the Fighting Irish. She tried not to get jealous or even dwell on that, for the most part, Becky did her best to not even think about fighting. It was hard, but she was getting to a point where while it still felt hopeless she was looking into doing other things.

 

With a sigh she set off, asking directions until she found what she was looking for. The address the mysterious person had sent her was none other than retired boxing great Ric Flair's. Apparently, the man now ran a boxing and mixed martial arts gym. It seemed whoever had sent Becky the address meant for her to go inside.

 

**Charlotte**

 

Charlotte Flair stared out her second-floor office window, down to the street outside. Ever since her dad had started getting older she had been helping more and more with the gym. She helped run his books, helped do the day to day operations, even trained a few fighters. She had never gone pro but she had a good amateur record.

 

They had called her the next big thing, but after her brother died, she just couldn't find her passion for it anymore. So instead she trained others and managed the business side of her father's business. Many people wanted to cash in on the boxing legend's name, make a franchise out of his gyms. Charlotte, however, refused to sell. She didn't want anybody to sully her dad's name.

 

She watched as a woman approached the front door. She frowned as she did so, there was something familiar about her. A moment later it hit her like a thunderbolt, it was none other than Becky Lynch hesitating at the entrance to her gym. "What the hell is she doing here?" Charlotte asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

 

Ric gave one of his shit-eating grins. "I owed a favor, besides she needs a fresh start and we need an experienced trainer. She can bring more people in."

 

Charlotte did not look thrilled if anything the blonde looked pissed off. "She's a public relations nightmare, the only reason people would come in to see her is to gape at her. We don't need her and we don’t need that kind of attention!"

 

Ric was just as stubborn as his daughter. "We have the apartment here, she can stay there and watch the gym. It'll be like extra security."

 

"She has a bad knee." Charlotte scoffed, thinking that Becky’s protection wouldn’t amount to much. "She'd probably rob us, blind dad. I don't like this." Charlotte said, trying to put her foot down.

 

"I'm not dead yet, so sorry Charlie but my vote is final and I overrule you. She gets a fair shot if she wants it." Ric warned, before turning his back on Charlotte and walking down the stairs to greet Becky who had finally walked into the gym.

 

Charlotte was pissed. "I can always put you in a home!" Charlotte yelled after him.

 

"We both know you won't do that darling," Ric called over his shoulder, before cracking a wide smile. "You must be Rebecca, welcome to Ric Flair's Combat Sports Gym, I've been expecting you. I’m Ric Flair, nice to meet you."

 

Becky stared from the overly excited old man to the blonde standing at the top of the staircase glaring daggers at her. She didn't know what kind of family spat she had walked into, but Becky already felt uncomfortable.

 

"Um yeah, I'm Beck-...err...Rebecca" She finally answered, shaking Ric's hand. Becky didn't know what to make of him, but she was hoping that whoever had sent her here had known what they were doing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! First please let us thank you all for taking the time to read this chapter, I know it wasn't brief but I hope you loved it nonetheless. The concept for this work came from my partner Becks' mind, and I'm just happy she's allowed me along for the ride! If you're looking for more of either of our writing you can find it here:
> 
> KrashlynPride (Becks): https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krashlynpride/pseuds/Krashlynpride
> 
> AttackPlatypus: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttackPlatypus/pseuds/Hedone
> 
> Keep the comments and kudos coming in you guys! It was SO encouraging to see the response we got on Chapter 1! 
> 
> Anyway, before you go make sure and leave some thoughts? What did you guys like here? What did you dislike? Will Becky be able to right her life with Ric Flair? Is Sasha losing herself in 'the Boss'? What's next for Bayley? And are Charlotte's concerns valid?


	3. Chapter 3: Identity lost but searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bayley has some work troubles, maybe a big scoop will help her out  
> Sasha is losing herself to the boss persona more and more  
> Becky is broken as hell  
> Charlotte is a master planner and throwing a hail mary.

**Becky**

Ric Flair had made his money as a boxing great, he was well respected in the fight industry. Having been a sort of wild man, he knew what a wayward soul looked like, and that’s what he saw in Becky.

Becky had been in Ric’s gym for all of three minutes and yet she wasn’t sure she felt comfortable. Ric and his daughter Charlotte seemed to be in some kind of dispute about her being there.

Charlotte was still glaring daggers at her from the top of the stairs, but had finally huffed and stormed off to what Becky assumed was an office.

Becky shifted her gaze from Charlotte’s retreating form to Ric. “Is she okay?”

Ric chuckled and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Honestly I ask myself that same question every day.” He knew his daughter’s intentions were to look out for him and the company. His interest in Becky was more than likely problematic, the girl was a disgraced fighter and a PR nightmare.

“Sir, I don’t know why I am here,” Becky said after a moment, and truthfully she wasn’t sure why she was there. She had gotten the card saying she could find a second chance and redemption there, but she wasn’t even sure if it was possible.

Ric considered her for a long moment. “You’re here for a second chance.”

“How can you give me a second chance?” Becky felt skeptical, she didn’t feel like she could trust anybody. She didn’t even trust herself much these days. “You don’t even know me, Sir.”

Ric grimaced and rolled his eyes. “Stop with the Sir crap, I’m not a Sir. Call me Ric, and I think I know you better than you might know yourself.”

Becky still felt hesitant, she wasn’t sure what he meant by offering her a second chance. She wasn’t in shape to fight, she was still working on her sobriety.

“I want to offer you a job. You’re a nuclear topic right now sure, but you can fight.” Ric had seen some of Becky’s fights, she was good when she was focused.

Becky’s eyes widened at his job offer. “I can’t fight, my knee is still fucked up.”

Ric continued on as if he hadn’t heard her. “You can use my gym to train, to rehab, you can live right here. There’s an apartment on the second floor. It’s not a huge apartment, but it’s got a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom. In return for living here for free and using the gym for free, you teach two classes a week.”

His offer felt far too good to be true and Becky still didn’t trust it. She didn’t dare allow herself to be hopeful.

“Why would you do this, you don’t know me S- Ric,” Becky repeated.

Ric groaned in exasperation and gestured around to the gym. “You think that I don’t know you girlie, but at one point in my life, I was you! I was the Nature Boy Ric Flair, the best boxer in the world, sleeping with different women every night. I was on top of the world until I wasn’t.”

The story did sound familiar and it had Becky’s heart in her throat. It felt like she had lost everything.

“You’re Becky Lynch, don’t you forget that,” Ric said poking her in the shoulder. “You might have fallen but you can always pick yourself up, you can be Becky Lynch the Irish Lass Kicker again.”

Becky frowned and shook her head. “I used to be Ric, I don’t think she exists any longer.” She didn’t feel much like the Irish Lass Kicker anymore.

Ric sighed softly, he could see she was broken. “Well do you at least want the job. I can’t make you fight but I can give you a chance to hide out here. I pay a fair wage” He offered.

The more that Becky thought about it, the more it sounded like an at least plausible job. It would get her out of the sober half-way house, give her an income, a place to live and allow her to train. It wasn’t that bad of a deal considering all of the options.

"I want the job," Becky said, finally giving in. Having to work two training sessions a week and teaching other people how to fight sounded like a fair deal.

A smile lit up the boxing great's face. "Excellent, you know you remind me of somebody else."

Becky tried to match his smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh yeah, who?"

"My next wife," Ric said waggling his eyebrows playfully. He was joking, of course, well sort of joking. "I am just messing with you Rebecca, come on Charlotte will give you the tour of the place and show you the apartment. She's known to sleep on the couch so she may have to move some of her stuff."

Becky did not look all that pleased with his joke, but she had been humbled enough in her fall from grace to keep her mouth shut. She just gave a simple nod, following Ric as he led the way up the stairs and in the direction of the blonde girl Becky had seen earlier.

**Bayley**

Bayley Martinez was a naturally cheerful personality. She liked to be liked and was prepared to like most people in turn. This wasn’t naivete as some others including, she knew, Sasha assumed. Bayley was fully aware that the world was terrible at times, maybe even most of the time. But she made the conscious choice to be happy anyway, and whether other people realized it or not this took more strength than being highly cynical.

But today even she was struggling to smile.

Just a few days beforehand she’d been in a state of high excitement. She’d been on Mojo’s podcast and been surprised, then thrilled, to learn that other guest for that edition would be none other than Mandy Rose herself. A woman who, until very recently, had been a hero in Bayley’s eyes.

Mandy Rose worked for ESPN both as a TV personality and writer. More to the point she was ESPN’s only female full-time MMA personality. Mandy was almost always the first face ESPN put in front of cameras when there was MMA news. Bayley, who had started from such a humble place, had long looked at her as a sort of measuring stick for her own career.

She’d begged Mojo to let her stay on the show with Mandy, even cashing in a favor or two, and in the end, he’d agreed. All three of them had spent a very pleasant twenty minutes chatting in Mo’s studio discussing Apollo Crew’s winning the Cruiserweight championship, a story about former boxing great Bob Orton and his investment group, and then the upcoming Sasha Banks-Teresa Blanchard fight.

Bayley had been more than a little star struck during the conversation but she thought she’d held her own. What was more encouraging was that she had a sense that Mandy seemed to like her. She wasn’t certain, the blonde woman was wearing her professional mask of polite interest, but she had a feeling. This feeling had both encouraged and intimidated Bayley.

Once they show had wrapped up and they’d both thanks Mo the two women had walked out together, chatting happily. Bayley’s intimidation had begun to swell, the more time she spent with the glamorous Rose the more she felt plain. She was even questioning her side ponytail. They'd reached Mandy’s car when, to Bayley’s surprise, the blonde had pulled her aside and spoken in a confidential voice.

“Hey so, I shouldn’t be doing this, but we got a tip about Enzo Amore at the network. It seems like he’s more injured than everyone thinks and he’s trying to hide it. I guess he’s going to try and see a specialist in Vancouver to try and keep it out of the news.: Mandy said quietly but with an excited grin on her face.

“Really?” Bayley had asked eagerly, barely able to keep herself whispering. Amore was a Featherweight fighter who was more famous for his mouth than for his work in the cage. Yet he was still always hovering near the top of his division rankings. For him to be trying to conceal an injury was big news.

“That’s what the tip said…” Rose said with a nod “...we’re going to be up to our ears in covering the run-up to the Banks fight but we're going to send one of our junior correspondents out there in a few days to check.”

“That’s so cool! I’ll be happy to repost when you do, attributed of course” Bayley said and then hastened to add the last part. To her surprise, Rose shook her head here with an amused look.

“I didn’t tell you this to flex Bayley,” she said with a smile. Bayley felt the tiniest of fangirl thrills when Mandy used her first name but didn’t say anything as the other woman went on: “I can’t officially promise anything but IF you were to get there first and maybe pick up the story...there could be another ESPN hit in your future if I can talk the producers into it. One thing though, you have to move quick Bayley, I can hold off my crew for a few days at most but then we’ll have to send one of our people.”

Bayley was speechless. This was Mandy Rose talking to her and not just talking to her now. Mandy was giving her a legit scoop that could lead to Bayley breaking some top-level news. She felt her own grin threatening to break out and spread across her face but she knew what she had to do as professional. “Why are you giving this to me? It would be huge for you,” she asked.

Mandy gave her a half amused half pitying look as she said: “honey, I think I can tell you that my career is going pretty well right now”. Both women laughed a this then Mandy added: “But come on Bayley, you know that we’re basically the only two women in our field of sports media. We need to look out for each other!”

Bayley beamed at this, totally convinced, as she nodded and said: “thank you so much, Mandy, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you!”. With that, she couldn’t hold herself in any longer and she hugged Mandy.

“Hey there,” Mandy said with a laugh as she stood awkwardly for only a moment before returning Bayley’s gesture with apparent warmth.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger,” Bayley said as she let go.

“As for paying me back, just give me the exclusive interview on the story and we’ll call it even,” Mandy said. She then took out her phone, asked Bayley’s number, and texted her some information. Looking up from her phone she gave Bayley a nod and a grin.

“Done,”

“Then I’ll talk to you soon, nice meeting you Bayley,” Mandy had said with a smile as she’d stepped into her car. As she’d driven away Bayley had waved goofily for a long time before getting into her own car. She had so much to do.

That had been almost a week ago and now a thoroughly disgruntled Bayley was sitting in an airport bar doing her best to hide her face she watched Mandy on ESPN. She’d taken time to hurry back to San Jose, quickly packed a bag, and grabbed her passport on her way out the door. A few hours later she’d been on a plane headed to Canada. When she’d landed she’d immediately checked into her hotel and begun digging.

She hadn’t been discouraged when none of the local sports media had been able to tell her anything. If Amore was being as secretive as Mandy had hinted they wouldn’t know anything. Bayley kept digging, chasing down any half lead she could find. She’d even resorted to calling the clinic where the procedure was supposed to be happening, but of course, that hadn’t gained her anything.

As two days had ticked by she’d grown more and more panicked. Mandy was doing her a huge favor by sending this scoop her way, and an even bigger one by sitting on it for that time. But she knew that Mandy couldn’t be idle forever, she had her own reputation to maintain. In her desperation, Bayley had done something foolish. Thinking to stake a claim to the story and then follow up later she’d posted an item on MM-Ayley outlining her scoop and promising more soon.

But this wasn’t the early days of the site any longer. She now had tens of thousands of people reading her stuff and the story had taken on a life of its own. She’d been briefly pleased with this evidence of her own reach. But then things had gone very wrong.

Less than a day later Enzo Amore himself had taken to Twitter to respond. The minute-long video hadn’t been kind to Bayley. The quote that had flashed around the MMA world being: “...I don’t know who the fuck this broad is but she doesn’t know shit”. Moreover, the video had very obviously been taken in a tropical location, definitely not Vancouver. Of course, he could have been lying but now that everyone in the world knew where Bayley was there was no chance she’d be able to pick anything up.

She’d tried to text and call Mandy but the number she had didn’t seem to be working. Without any other recourse, Bayley had been forced to trudge back to the airport with her tail between her legs. Now here she was watching as Mandy Rose, the woman she’d long idolized, smiled to the camera and eviscerated her.

“...Martinez HAS been doing some great work recently, in particular, that run up to the Banks-Lynch fight” Montel Porter was saying on the left half of the screen.

“OK, BUT, that was over a year ago MVP. What has she done since then? Besides, this was just basic journalism stuff. I don’t know who gave her that tip she mentioned but don’t we all know that you’re supposed to vet your sources?” Mandy responded, her smile never slipping.

“I agree, that was clearly a mistake. But I think it’s happened to most of us at one time or another, we get a tip from a source we trust and it turns out to be a bust,” Porter answered.

“Sure, look I’ve only met her once when we both did Mojo Rawley’s podcast and she seems nice. Who doesn’t love the side pony?...” here both Mandy and Porter laughed “...but in all seriousness, and especially with a story like this where you’re dealing with a fighter’s health, I just think the media and the fans expect better. I’m honestly kind of disappointed myself, I want to see other women succeed in our field, but maybe I should just take this as a win for traditional media standards over new media”. Mandy administered this last twist of the knife with a particularly sweet smile.

“Oh damn, Rose is throwing bombs!” Porter laughed.

Unable to stomach any more of this Bayley threw some money onto the bar and slouched off toward her gate.

**Sasha**

Sasha was bored.

This wasn’t unusual in itself, her brain tended to move so fast that she was bored often. But this was the first time in her life that she’d been bored while in the cage. She found the experience disturbing.

The run to the Banks-Blanchard fight had been as acrimonious as any. Both camps had exchanged insults, there had been the near fist fight at the weigh-in, and now here they were. The winner tonight stood to walk away a rich (or richer) woman with an expected take home almost 5 million, yet another women’s record. And despite all of this? Sasha found she wasn’t much interested.

Oh, she was fighting for all she was worth. But it turned out that Theresa either wasn’t or that ‘all she was worth’ simply wasn’t close to good enough. As her opponent darted forward attempting to kick to the knee, Sasha simply stepped back and then retaliated with a straight left that caught Theresa on the chin. The other woman stumbled backward and Sasha didn’t even bother following.

She dimply heard the crowd react to this but it was just so much background mutter. When Theresa came back at her again trying to tie her up it was as though the dark-haired woman was moving through deep mud. Sasha simply sidestepped, tagged her twice on the ribs and then kicked the back of her left knee so hard that it brought Theresa down to her knees. Sasha could have ended the fight here but instead, she very deliberately stepped back and beckoned her opponent to stand.

She definitely heard the roar from the crowd at this. Remembering herself then Sasha hit her signature ‘Boss sway’ before resuming her guard. This brief bit of showmanship pleased her but when Theresa regained her feet Sasha sunk right back into apathy. Her opponent was just so slow and this whole fight was simply becoming tedious.

Deciding that she’d had had her fun, Sasha determined to end the match. As Theresa shot toward her legs with the speed of a sloth she simply raised her knee to meet the other woman’s face. There was an audible cracking sound which Sasha ignored. She threw Theresa down to the mat and a moment later was straddling her, raining punishing punches down onto her face.

It was all over a few moments later.

Sasha smiled through the rest of the post-match niceties. As had become her custom she completely ignored her opponent and instead climbed to the top of the cage to hold her hands up in her ‘boss pose’. She beamed when her arm was raised and then kissed her title. But it was all an act, an act that she’d done so often that it had become second nature.

Back in the locker room, she reflected on why she found this sense of ennui so troubling. She decided it had to be because she no longer felt challenged by life. Sasha had grown up in rough circumstances, she’d beaten them. She’d been told she wouldn’t make it in MMA, so she’d done that too. She’d heard that she had no business fighting Becky Lynch, and Sasha had beaten her and taken her title.

Now what?

She spent a great deal of time training, and that was satisfying, but to what end? Every opponent she’d faced since Becky Lynch had been no challenge. In fact, they seemed to be getting less challenging with time. With each easy win, Sasha found herself less and less interested in her life. Then there was the boss.

What had started as a way for Sasha to feel confident in herself, and something of a joke had snowballed horribly on her. It used to be that she was ‘the Boss’ only a fraction of the time. But as her success and fame had grown it seemed that now Sasha was the aberration and ‘the Boss’ was the norm.

Almost the only times she wasn’t the Boss now was when she was with either Bobby or Bayley. She saw Bobby often while she trained, but it wasn’t as though there was really an opportunity there. But with Bayley things were harder. Sasha was seeing less and less of her...whatever Bayley was to her. This was due to both of their schedules being busier. But it was also due to Bayley’s increasing nervousness over their relationship being made public.

This sparked a brief flare of annoyance in Sasha. Where did Bayley get off being reluctant to be seen in public with her? She was Sasha Banks, the goddamn Boss. Bayley should just be grateful that Sasha wanted her around. But as quickly as these ignoble thoughts arose they died in her heart.

Even if Sasha was either unable or unwilling to try and reign in the Boss, she was aware of the problem. She was also aware that Bayley, and Bobby, were good for her. She might lack the strength to completely pull herself out of her current lifestyle but she recognized that need for people like them. People who still not only wanted to be friends with Sasha Banks but would also tell her AND the Boss no.

An hour or so later when she finally did leave the area to head toward her limo Sasha opened the door to find Zelina Vega sitting inside waiting for her. Sliding into the back seat Sasha hit the control that raised the screen between the passenger compartment and the driver and then turned to face Vega.

“Get over here,” she said softly but in a tone of absolute command.

“Yes, boss,” Vega purred as she slid across the seat and onto Sasha’s lap. Their lips met as Sasha’s hands ran possessively over Selina’s body. Selina was Sasha’s ‘girlfriend’ though that wasn’t a really accurate description of their relationship. Zelina was beautiful and Sasha certainly enjoyed sleeping with her, but to call what they had a ‘relationship’ didn’t seem right.

This melancholy thought interrupted Sasha’s enjoyment of Zelina. Not enough to make her stop of course, but enough that her mind was elsewhere. As she went mechanically through the motions with Zelina, her mind was mostly on Bayley. When they finally reached Sasha’s house she told Zelina to give her a few hours and then retreated into the rooms where the other woman wasn’t allowed.

Dropping heavily onto a couch she stared forlornly at the cases full of mementos of her MMA career. At the photos of her with famous fighters and other celebrities. At the very end of this row, next to her photo with boxing legend Ric Flair, was the one she treasured most of all. The photo that Teddy had insisted she take with Bayley the first time they’d met.

Seized by a sudden impulse Sasha took out her phone.

**Bayley/Sasha**

Bayley had finally gotten home. She’d been hiding her head under her pillow for a few minutes now when her phone buzzed. She would have ignored it, as she’d been ignoring the MANY calls and texts she’d been receiving, but this was a special buzz. Retrieving the phone she read the message from Sasha.

 _“Hey”_ was all it said.

 _“Hey yourself, good win tonight!”_ Bayley answered. She didn’t really feel like talking but being polite as an ingrained habit for her and besides she was always extra sweet with Sasha.

_“She sucked, where are you?”_

_“I’m at home, had a shitty week,”_ Bayley responded. She hoped Sasha would take the hint and allow her to mope in peace. No such luck.

 _“Come to see me I’ll make you feel better,”_ Sasha answered. Bayley frowned, this answer really exasperated her. She’d just told Sasha she was having a shitty weak and Sasha’s response was to ask for sex. Any number of responses occurred to Bayley but she knew the right one to send.

_“No thanks ‘Boss’.”_

There was a noticeable delay during which Bayley’s phone informed her that Sasha was typing. Finally, the response came: _“that was mean, I was just trying to be nice.”_

_“No, you were trying to get in my pants.”_

_“I’ve never heard you complain before.”_

_“Good night Sasha.”_

_“Come on! Tell me why your week sucked.”_

Bayley bit her lip as she thought. She was annoyed at Sasha’s comment but the idea of having someone to talk to about her week, and Sasha in particular, was appealing. She thought for a few minutes before sent a series of messages explaining everything that had gone down. As before, Sasha took her time responding.

_“Rose is a bitch, want me to go after her?”_

_“NO! I need to fix this.”_

_“Let me help!”_

_“If I think of something for you to do I will let you know,”_

_“You know…”_

_“What?!”_

_“If we were together I actually COULD help.”_

Bayley rolled her eyes as she responded: _“Sure, where would that leave Zelina then?”_

_“Dumped, you’re worth a hundred of her.”_

Bayley’s frown deepened. She had to concede that she didn’t like Zelina Vega in the few times she’d met her, being introduced as Sasha’s friend. The woman struck her as the stereotype of a gold digger. She also to concede that part of her WAS jealous of Zelina. But even so, to hear Sasha talk about her notional girlfriend as though she were nothing but an interchangeable component rankled with Bayley.

 _“Very classy ‘Boss’,”_ was all she sent back in reply.

_“I don’t know what you want from me, Bayley.”_

_“I wanted to talk to my friend Sasha, not the damn ‘Boss’”_

_“Well come to talk to her, I’m here!”_

_“I said I wanted to talk to her, not drive down to LA to be her current piece of ass,”_

_“Yeah, seems like you really wanted to talk! More like insult me! I don’t know why I bother with you sometimes!”_

_“Good night”_ Bayley typed furiously before literally throwing her phone against the wall and hiding under her pillow once more.

**Charlotte/Becky**

Charlotte had been keeping a watchful eye on her dad and Becky once she had left them. She was silently fuming though, hating the fact that her dad had overruled her. She didn't think that Becky deserved to be there at the gym with them, Charlotte had fought tooth and nail to keep her father's combat sports gym from going under water. Having an unpredictable person, who was a heat-seeking missile for bad press, was not in their best interest.

The blonde spent most of her time having to beat back the sharks that seemed to be circling like they smelled blood in the water. Everybody wanted a piece of her dad’s business and Charlotte felt like she was having to be the responsible one. She wasn’t even sure if her dad knew how tight money got sometimes.

Her dad had always loved a good charity case, and Charlotte was praying to God that he'd get over this one sooner rather than later. Charlotte knew her dad was a sucker for a girl in tight clothing, the man was like the Hugh Hefner of professional sports, there was no way in hell she was going to let Becky bring her father's business down.

Hearing footsteps approaching the door to her office, she lifted her head right as Becky and Ric walked in. She looked from her father to the Irish woman behind him, who looked like she was pleading for the Earth to swallow her.

"I need you to show Rebecca around Charlotte, I have a meeting to go to. Rebecca is going to be working here and living in the apartment." Ric said, staring his daughter down. He was giving her a warning of sorts. "Alright see you, ladies, later."

Charlotte stared right back at him as he left, her displeasure evident by the look on her face. However, she was a businesswoman through and through so she rose to her feet and extended a hand to Becky.

"My name is Ashley but everybody calls me Charlotte, it's a long story," Charlotte explained, her dad had opened his gym in Boston and had missed his hometown so much that he started calling her Charlotte. It was stupid but the name had stuck through the years.

Becky took her hand and shook it. "My name is Re-"

Charlotte cut her off. "I know who you are." She said, shaking her head. She was doing her best to keep her voice even. "Why don't I show you to your apartment." The tone in Charlotte’s voice making it evident, that showing Becky around was the last thing she wanted to do.

Charlotte was once again fuming but led the way out of her office and down the hall. She was doing her best to try and play nice, but her patience was already wearing thin. She supposed it wasn’t really Becky’s fault, but it was easier to blame Becky than to blame Ric.

The second floor of Ric's building was offices and then, of course, a small apartment. Ric had originally meant for his son Reid to live there but after Reid's death, it had sat empty aside from when Charlotte would sleep there during long shifts at the gym.

Becky trailed behind Charlotte looking around the building that would be her home. "I don't know why your dad offered me this job, but I appreciate it," Becky said, trying to break the awkward tension.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Nobody knows why my dad does anything, he works in mysterious ways I guess." She unlocked the apartment and stepped inside to find the light switches.

Becky had to admit that the apartment was better furnished than she would have thought. It didn't look like it had gotten much use but she liked it. It was small and tucked away in the upstairs and she didn't think she'd have to worry about people bothering her all that much.

She picked up a picture that was sitting on the coffee table, it was of a young man and Charlotte. Charlotte was on the man's back as he gave her a piggyback ride. The man looked familiar but Becky wasn't sure where she knew him from. "Hey, is this you and your boyfriend?"

Charlotte glanced from Becky to the picture in the girl's hands, her face going through a range of emotions. Charlotte crossed the distance between them in about three steps, and Becky was almost positive the woman was going to rip the thing out of her hands but instead, Charlotte took the picture with careful hands.

"Please don't touch that. That isn't my boyfriend, that's my brother Reid." Charlotte said, staring down at the picture. There was a profound sadness that had entered her eyes, a sort of haunted look that came with a great loss.

"I'm sorry," Becky said, understanding why Charlotte had reacted so strongly. Most of the fighting world knew about Reid Flair. He was going to be something amazing but then his tragic death had occurred.

Charlotte took a ragged breath and shook her head. "It's fine, this was going to be his place but he never really got to live here. So I'll try and have his stuff moved out by the end of the week so you can move your stuff in."

Becky didn't even know what to say, she could tell that Charlotte didn't like her. "Alright, well I guess thanks for showing me the apartment," Becky replied slipping her hands into her back pockets so she wouldn't be tempted to touch anything.

The blonde just stared at her before shifting her gaze away. "Look I am going to be real honest with you, I don't like you very much. I may not know you specifically but I know your type, you use people and then throw them away. My dad seems to think for some crazy reason that you are worth giving a second chance too, so I am going to treat you as civil as I can. But let me give you a little warning, if you steal from us or in any way bring your bullshit to my gym I'll kick your ass worse than Banks did." Charlotte warned, venom dripping from her tone. Charlotte was using her emotions to put up barriers, she didn’t need somebody like Becky to come charging through them.

Becky felt her own temper flaring dangerously. She had lost everything and she felt like she had more than suffered the consequences. "Look, Ms. Flair, I am not here to take advantage of your father. He offered me a job and I am taking it. I'll stay out of your way and you stay the hell out of mine." Becky fired back. The anger felt good to her, it felt like energy flowing through her, awakening the broken pieces of her.

Charlotte nodded slowly. "Seems we have an agreement, my dad's given you a chance, don't fuck it up." With that Charlotte turned and left, leaving Becky listening to the sound of her receding footsteps.

"What a bitch," Becky muttered, before looking around the apartment once more. She was still questioning if it was worth it to work here if she had to put up with somebody like Charlotte. Still being here was a lot better than living in a halfway house.

**Becky**

Becky had been working at Ric’s Combat Sports Gym for close to two weeks now. She did her best to be polite to Ric and avoid Charlotte at all costs. Things hadn’t improved between the two of them, and Becky did her best to stay out of Charlotte’s way, lest Becky be struck with the urge to punch then blonde in her perfect face.

The red-head found herself alone in the gym, or at least that was what she thought. The gym normally closed by nine-thirty and Becky had been in her apartment until at least ten thirty. She didn’t really want to see anybody.

Emotionally it felt like a low day, she had seen a news clip on her tv of Finn promoting his upcoming fight. It pained her to admit it, but she missed him like crazy. She was angry he had walked out on her, but she knew from a business standpoint it was the right thing to do.

Getting dressed in some work out shorts and her sports bra Becky tapped her hands. The thing she liked about Ric’s was that once everybody left the gym it was hers to use. She hadn’t made use of it yet, aside from doing some cardio, but she felt like hitting something.

Settling herself in front of a punching bag, she focused her anger and her emotions. She thought about Charlotte and the condescending look the blonde would give her whenever they saw each other. She thought about how it felt to know that Finn and the Fighting Irish no longer wanted her or needed her. Her thoughts drifted to Carmella selling comments and stories about her to gossip magazines.

Before Becky could even process it, she felt tears streaming down her cheeks. She was swinging blindly now, her punching rhythm thrown off. She ended up just hugging the bag and crying as she slowly sank to her knees. It brought back memories of when she had first met Finn.

_-Flashback-_

_Growing up on the rough streets of Dublin, Ireland, Rebecca Quin had fought tooth and nail to escape her father's harsh hands. Her family didn't have a lot of money so if Becky wanted something she had to earn it. She had been in tenth grade when she heard about an underground fight club at her school run by some high school kids. A sixteen-year-old Becky was all gangly limbs, but she knew she could take a beating. All she really had to do was survive a single round and she'd get paid for it._

_When she had shown up in the old gym of the local high school, she was one of only two girls there. The other girl was older, broad shoulder and probably outweighed Becky by at least thirty pounds. It felt like every boy in the gym had bet against her, saying her opponent would beat the shit out of her_

_There had only been one person in the gym who thought Becky would survive more than one round: Finn Balor_

_Everybody knew Finn, the fight club had been his idea. Everybody dreamed of someday working for Finn's dad, it was a safer profession than having to work on the crime-infested streets of Becky's hometown._

_The fight had been mostly Becky getting the shit beat out of her, but she was resilient. She was more agile than her opponent and even after she got hit repeatedly, she still kept getting up. Becky had managed to survive the first round, though she lost mid-way through the second round._

_When she finally came too, Finn was kneeling down next to her. He wore an amused expression and gave her an appraising once-over._

_"You don't stay down do you Lass?"_

_Becky groaned and rubbed her aching temple. "It's not in my nature. I'm here to kick ass and take names." She tried to sit up and with Finn's help finally managed too._

_"What's your name?" Finn asked, he had seen her around before but had never gotten her name._

_"Rebecca Quin," Becky answered, still trying to get her bearings about her._

_"Well Becky, you seem to be able to take a lot of hard knocks. You have spirit as my dad would say." Finn stood up and held out his hand towards her to help her up. "I'm Finn, and I'd like to help you train. I have a good feeling about you, but you need a better name than Rebecca Quin. Hmm how about Rebecca Knox... oh or if you get a good submission we could you Becky Lynch, you'd be the Lynchpin of our future women's division."_

_Becky wasn't quite sure what he was talking about, but he looked excited. It sounded like an adventure and so taking his hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. "You'd teach me how to actually fight so I don't get my ass kicked?"_

_Finn nodded his head. "Stick with me and I'll take you to the top of the world." He promised, giving her a reassuring smile._

_\- End of Flashback-_

Becky's heart broke as she thought about the loss of her friendship with Finn. She knew it was her own fault, of course, she couldn't put the blame on him. He had taken a young and broken Becky and made her something, but now she was older and still broken yet he wasn't there to pick her up anymore. He had been the one constant in her youth and early adulthood, the one person she could rely on and now due to her own faults, she didn't have that.

She knew this time she'd have to pick herself up. She slowly got back on her feet and went back to punch the bag, throwing a few combinations. Becky wasn't sure how, but she knew she needed to find her way back to the top of the division. At the very least she needed to persevere and redeem herself.

**Charlotte**

Unknown to Becky, Charlotte was still in her office. She had heard somebody working out, and had opened her office blinds just enough to peer down and see what was going on. Charlotte watched with interest as Becky attacked the punching bag, she had seen the girl crying and something tugged at Charlotte's heart.

There was no way in hell that Charlotte liked Becky as a person, but perhaps there was an agreement to be made. If Charlotte and her father together could get Becky back at the top of her game and into fighting shape, and if Becky made a full comeback then there could be good press for all of them.

Good press meant more people coming to the gym and Charlotte not having to worry about how they were going to keep the lights on and pay all the bills. They did okay, but it wasn't like the gym had a lot of surplus money. Charlotte watched Becky for a few more minutes before closing the blinds.

As much as she wasn't a fan of Becky, she was going to find a way to help her and in turn, help her father's gym. It was going to take a lot of work and probably a lot of patience to deal with a broken and beaten down Becky Lynch, but Charlotte had never been one to back down from a challenge.

Sitting back down at her desk, Charlotte started at the sticky note that was stuck to her laptop. On the desk was a phone number, that she quickly dialed.

The phone rang for a few minutes before a male voice answered the other end. A slow methodical smile crossed Charlotte’s face.

“Hello Mr. Orton, yes I have a proposition for you. I know you’ve been wanting to buy out my father, you even agreed to buy off some of our debt, but I have an idea that will make us both rich.” Charlotte said, barely able to hide the excitement from her voice. She had to take a moment to calm herself down.

‘Cowboy’ Bob Orton had been a boxer once too, never at the level of success as Charlotte’s father but he was the type of man who honored a handshake as a legit type of business contract.

He was one of a long list of investors who wanted to buy out Ric’s gym and franchise it. Ric, of course, didn’t want to sell, and neither did Charlotte. However, having to keep the lights on wasn’t the easiest.

It wasn’t like Ric had really taken care of the gym after Reid’s death. It was still nice of course with good equipment but it was due for some fresh paint and a sort of image upgrade.

Bob Orton seemed to be considering Charlotte’s idea as she laid out her master plan to him. If she could get Becky back into fighting condition and help her win fights, then the cut she’d receive would be more than enough to help pay some of the heftier bills.

As Becky made her come back, it would be a good promotion for Ric’s gym.

“Do you think you can trust her?” Bob asked everybody knew of the downward spiral Becky had been on. “She’s a recovering addict, she doesn’t seem like the type of woman you’d want to throw branding behind.”

Charlotte chuckled softly. “My dad seems to think she’s something special, for me the jury is still out. I know this though, this gym means the world to me and if I have to bank on a one in a million shot, then so be it.”

“Okay, okay what do you need from me?” Orton asked, deciding to entertain Charlotte’s idea for the moment.

“I need you to front me some cash, a couple hundred thousand. Get most of the debt collectors off my dad’s back. In return, I’ll offer you some of my cut of Becky’s winnings and a ten percent partnership in the gym’s future stocks.” Charlotte knew it was a hard bargain, but it was one she was willing to make. If she had to sell a little of her prized possession to keep the rest of it, then it’d be worth it. At least that was what she was telling herself.

The man laughed, though Charlotte didn’t know if he was laughing at her or about the bullshit she was trying to sell as apple pie.

“Alright Charlotte, because I like your daddy, I’ll front you the cash but it needs to have a good payout.” He warned though he was still laughing. “You got balls of steel little girl.”

It was Charlotte’s turn to laugh. “Yeah well, it’s in my DNA. I’m a Flair.”

She stole one last look out of the blinds at Becky who was still training. She just hoped the gamble she was making was worth it. Then she had an idea. Something she could do to maybe make sure the gym got SOMETHING out of her experiment, even if it couldn’t get everything. Picking up her phone she made several calls in search of a particular number.

**Bayley**

It took Bayley a moment to remember why she woke up in such a foul mood. Then the memories her exchange with Sasha from the night before came flooding back. Yeah, that was it.

She had just resolved to spend the next few days in her pajamas hiding from the world at home when her phone vibrated on the countertop. It wasn’t from Sasha, so Bayley was planning to ignore it but something told her not to. Rolling her eyes and sighing she reached for the device, fully expecting to see some more bad news. Instead, it was a pair of texts from a number that she didn’t know with a 617 area cold, Boston.

Intrigued, Bayley opened the first message. It was plain text that read: _“After your last story I bet you could use a good tip. Come to Boston, I promise you’ll have a story worth reporting”_. The message was followed by an address. Bayley was tempted to dismiss this as someone being a dick over her last story. So tempted that she almost just deleted the second message when she realized it was a video.

The file opened and Bayley watched the low-quality video that seemed to have been shot through some blinds. Nonetheless, she saw what sender had obviously meant her to see a moment later. When she realized the full implications of it her eyes widened. Without even bothering to respond Bayley dropped her phone and ran to her bedroom to begin packing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright losers (just kidding I love you), we're going Four Horsewomen shopping for feels. Shout out to my buddy for making me a better writer. I tend to write a lot of shit but Vegas is like the careful thread master, weaving all the pieces together. I had an idea but Vegas makes it a story. So give some love to the man. 
> 
> Also I hope y'all like some angst, because is it just me or is the angst turned up a bit. Why Sasha gotta be doing Bayley dirty like that, why can't Bayley catch a break. Also angsty Becky breaks my heart, but my head says break her more. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, all the kudos, the bookmarks, the views. We really appreciate it, let us know what your favorite parts are, your favorite lines or characters. I don't know about Vegas, but I thrive off of words of affirmation so please send them our way. 
> 
> \- Becks


	4. Chapter 4: The Path to the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bayley arrives in Boston chasing her mysterious lead.  
> Charlotte tries to position her gym to succeed  
> Sasha provokes her next opponent  
> Becky learns it's hard to begin again

**Becky**

 

Becky's hands were shaking hard as she stared down at the cell phone in her lap. She was trying to rationalize whether or not she should actually call the number she had entered. Mostly she was wondering if it was worth all the emotional feelings it was going to stir up.

 

She hadn't talked to Finn in six months, before their fight the longest they went without talking was days. Finn had always been the one person on her side, the one person to save her from herself, and yet Becky had thrown it all away.

 

"He doesn't want to hear from me." Becky mused aloud, she was talking to herself. Trying to come to a decision one way or another. "He probably changed his number, he doesn't want to talk to me."

 

Becky set her phone down, she was itching for a drink. Her throat was burning, perhaps maybe from the lump of emotion that seemed caught in her throat. There was no way Finn would want to see her, he was still on top of the mountain. Finn's dad had stepped back and from Becky had heard Finn was taking on more responsibility.

 

She had seen the interviews, people asked Finn about her and he'd deflect and start talking about his newest rising star, Nikki Cross. It broke her heart but more often than not, Becky just tried to tune it out.

 

She missed Finn though, she missed talking to him, because he was one of the few people that understood her better than others. She missed having actual conversations with him, talking about the life they had left behind in Ireland.

 

Picking her phone back up, she pressed the send button before she could chicken out. The phone ringing felt like the loudest sound she had ever heard, but it was almost drowned out by the sound of her heart pounding

 

It took what felt like an eternity before somebody picked up on the other line.

 

"Hello?"

 

Becky wanted to almost weep in relief at the sound of Finn's voice, her heart cracking.

 

"Hello?...anybody there?"

 

Becky tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Finn it's me, don't hang up."

 

A heavy sigh sounded from the other end of the phone. "What do you want Rebecca, you're not in jail are you?"

 

Becky frowned, but she knew it was a fair question. "No, I'm in jail. I'm sober actually, sober as a judge."

 

“You didn’t answer my question, what do you want?” Finn’s tone was clipped, guarded in a way that Becky had never heard him before.

 

In rehab, they told her that she needed to try and make amends with people that she had wronged. She had been stubborn then, but she knew she needed to apologize.

 

“I am sorry Finn, I just wanted to call you and tell you I am sorry and I miss you. I messed up, I know that now. I knew it then too, I just couldn’t pull my hand off of the self-destruct button if I wanted too.” Becky knew she had put Finn through a lot of shit, she wanted his forgiveness but she could understand him not wanting to forgive her.

 

Finn let out a bitter laugh, sounding like he didn’t believe a word she was saying. Becky had cut him deeply, he had considered her family and she had spat in his face.

 

“You realize you put me in an unwinnable situation right? God Bex, I would have done anything for you. You’re always so damn stubborn.” Finn’s voice was thick with emotion, the fact that he sounded like he was about to cry only broke Becky’s heart worse. “What gives you the right to call after six months. There were so many days I thought I’d get the call that they found you dead somewhere. I’ve spent the last six months worried sick about you.”

 

“You told me not to call.” Becky pointed out, Finn had told her not to come around and she had listened.

 

“The one time you listen to me…” Finn trailed off, taking another deep breath. “You’re alright and healthy?”

 

“Yeah, I’m about four months sober. I have a place to live in Boston, I live above a gym and it pays okay.” Becky’s voice was shaking. She knew Finn had every right to be angry with her, to resent her. “Finn, I really am sorry.”

 

Finn cleared his throat. “I am glad you’re sober Bex and that you got some stability, I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. I’m still really angry and hurt, but I’m always going to love you.”

 

“Finn, I love you too, please can we just-”

 

“Becky, I can’t do this with you right now. I’ll call you if and when I’m ready to talk, don’t call me again.” Finn said, before abruptly hanging up.

 

Becky felt numb as the dial tone buzzed in her ear. In therapy they had told her that sometimes people wouldn’t accept her apology, they just hadn’t told her it would hurt so bad. Tears were pricking at her eyes but she blinked them away.

 

Her heart was aching again and all she wanted to do was make the emotional pain, physical. The physical pain was something she was better at handling. Taping up her hands, she decided to go back down to the gym’s punching bags and work out.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley was a lifelong California resident, she liked her summers long and winters non-existent. Needless to say, Boston in late fall was not at all to her taste. She’d always bridled at the notion that residents of the west coast were ‘weather wimps’. Now she understood why the stereotype had developed.

 

Logan international airport was cold enough, but the brief walk from the terminal out to her rideshare was absolutely frigid. She practically tossed her bag into the back seat of the car before almost diving in after it. To her dismay, it was barely any warmer there. She’d packed her heaviest coat and was wearing a sweater underneath it but somehow they didn’t seem to help.

 

As she gave the driver the address she’d received she saw that she had a new text. Opening it she frowned when she saw it was from Sasha. She was still mad enough at Sasha that she debated not reading it but decided that would be childish. Opening it she read what Sasha had to say.

 

“Are we not talking?”

 

Bayley found this message irritating. Sasha hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge that she’d been rude to Bayley, much less apologize. She gave into her pique for a moment as she texted back: “yes.”

 

Bayley surprised how quickly the reply came: “Can I at least ask why?”

 

“The fact that you aren’t even aware is kind of a big part of the problem BOSS” Bayley texted back waspishly. There was a long pause now while Sasha composed and likely recomposed her reply.

 

“I’m sorry,” was what she settled on.

 

“For?” Bayley prompted.

 

“For trying to respond to your problem with sex. I know that was a shitty thing for me to do”. This response caught Bayley off guard. She’d been assuming Sasha was just apologizing because she thought it was what Baley wanted to hear. Instead, it seemed that Sasha actually understood.

 

“I really wanted to talk to my friend that night Sasha,” Bayley responded.

 

“Call me whenever you need Bay, I promise you won’t ever talk to the Boss again,” came the reply. Bayley actually smiled softly at this.

 

“Can I call you later? I’m in Boston right now chasing a story,” she sent back.

 

“Why are you in Boston?”

 

“I’ll tell you later, talk soon?”

 

“OK, love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Bayley responded before putting her phone away. She stared out the window for the rest of the ride to her hotel. Upon arrival, she rushed into the building and after a very quick check in she hurried up to her room. The first thing she did upon arriving was to crank the heat as high as it would go. She sat hunched on the side of the bed over the heater rubbing her hands together.

 

When she was feeling less like an icicle she opened her roller bag and proceeded to put on most of the clothes she’d brought with. She looked ridiculous but she didn’t care, she would not go back out into that icebox without more layers. This accomplished she pulled her laptop out and began some quick research. Of course, she’d checked on the address she’d been sent before leaving California. She knew she was going to the legendary Ric Flair’s combat sports gym. But she still didn’t know that much about it as a business, or the area it was in.

 

She read quickly through the gym’s website, which was badly in need of updating, before moving on with her search. She found several articles about it though none were recent save for a short piece from the Boston Globe sports section dated two years before. It was about the death of Ric Flair’s son, Reid. As Bayley read she learned that he’d apparently been quite the fighter himself. She also learned that he was survived not just by his father but by a sister, Ashley, who it seemed was helping run the gym at least as of the story’s print date.

 

As a journalist, Bayley knew better than most that the further down your search results you went in research the less likely you were to find productive info. Still, she clicked on a few links further down and stumbled on a few local web forums. Many of the comments painted a picture of a once proud institution in decline. Several were very critical of Ashley Flair and her management style. In fact, it seemed the gym had lost several fighters it had previously signed over the last few years.

 

Bayley was beginning to wonder if she’d made a mistake coming to Boston. Was this some kind of desperate PR stunt? She wasn’t sure her reputation could take another body blow so soon after her Enzo Amore fiasco, and chasing after a potential nothing burger would be just that. She debated internally for a long time before she decided that she’d already made the trip. It couldn’t hurt just to go by the gym if nothing else she might get a picture with Ric Flair.

 

Priority number one, however, was to go buy herself a thicker coat. She did so, though she didn’t remove her previous one either. So it was looking somewhat like the Michelin man that she finally got in a car and heading toward the gym.

 

The driver dropped her in a somewhat forlorn looking street. Though the sky was grey and overcast Bayley got the impression that the mood of this place was ALWAYS grey. The buildings were rundown brick and the concrete was cracked. She guessed that at one point the gym, and the area in general, had probably been quite nice. It struck her that its physical decay was a metaphor for its decline in prestige. Walking to the front door which had been stenciled with the words: Flair Combat Sports Academy Bayley saw that the windows on either side were plastered with sun faded fight posters.

 

“What is this place? A movie set?” Bayley muttered as she pulled on the door and stepped inside. Her sense of the place as looking like a caricature of an old-timey boxing gym was only deepened as she entered. Despite the modern equipment and TV’s in evidence, the place just seemed...dated.

 

There were few people in evidence as Bayley looked around. Two men were hitting heavy bags, a blonde woman was coaching another woman in one of the two rings, but other than that the place was empty. In such a large space this particularly noticeable. The gym could easily have accommodated fifty to sixty people. No one approached Bayley as she entered so she was left to stand awkwardly for a few moments before she decided to walk around the perimeter of the gym.

 

If it wasn’t for the fact that she recognized one of the rings from the video she’d been sent she have thought she was in the wrong place. She was also feeling somewhat ridiculous due to the amount of winter clothing she was wearing. Still, she kept walking, studying the walls as she went. Like the doorway, every inch of these were covered in old posters or photos. Most were of Ric Flair himself in his heyday, some seemed to be more recent though Bayley noted there didn’t seem to be any of Flair’s children. Bayley had been at this for almost ten minutes without anyone bothering to ask her what she wanted and she was just thinking of leaving when someone spoke up from behind her.

 

“Impressive isn’t it?”

 

**Charlotte**

 

Charlotte had seen the brunette woman enter the gym and had immediately hurried to the bathroom to check her appearance. Presentation was everything to the Flair woman even if her gym was in disarray.

 

She eyed Bayley carefully, sizing the girl up before smirking. “I am so glad you could make it, you’re Bayley right?” Charlotte asked though she knew damn well who Bayley was. She thought she’d give the girl a chance to introduce herself.

 

“Bayley Martinez, MM-Ayley.com yes,” Bayley answered, extending her hand toward the woman who could only be Charlotte Flair.

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Martinez. MM-Ayley.com, hmm that’s cute.” Charlotte was amused by it, before clearing her throat. “So I see you got the video I sent?” Charlotte had taken the video of Becky training. She intended to use it to her advantage because many people would pay for a scoop like that.

 

“Thanks?...” Bayley said a bit awkwardly. Not because of the comment on her site’s name, she’d been hearing those jokes for years, but something about the other woman made her nervous. Charlotte Flair was a deal taller than Bayley and this combined with her whole bearing made Bayley feel slightly childish. To cover this lapse she cleared her throat and added: “yes I did, I’m grateful for the scoop but I feel I have to ask why you sent it to me? My reputation isn’t at its peak at the moment.”

 

She neglected to mention anything further on the subject, Flair had hinted at in her text. Besides, Bayley wasn’t about to go whining about Mandy Rose to someone she barely knew. That was her problem and she would deal with it...eventually.

 

Charlotte watched her for a moment, thinking about how to properly answer Bayley. She knew what the politically correct answer was, but Charlotte wasn’t in the mood to bullshit the reporter.

 

“Look around you Ms. Martinez, you can see for yourself that my establishment isn’t at its pinnacle of success and neither is Ms. Lynch-”

 

“So Becky Lynch IS here?” Bayley blurted. She’d hadn’t really been allowing herself to believe it fully until now.

 

Charlotte stared at Bayley for a moment, she loathed being interrupted.  Becky interrupted her on the daily as well. “Yes, she is here Ms. Martinez. She is why I brought you here. There is something to be gained from working together. You get the scoop of a lifetime, a feel good, come back story that’ll keep you on the map. Ms. Lynch gets a second chance and article that paint her in a better light, a more forgiving light.” Charlotte wasn’t sure she was convincing but she hoped that she was.

 

“As for me, what I get is people coming to my gym to see where Becky trains. I need the good media coverage just as much as Ms. Lynch does. We all need a second chance, don’t we? To prove the doubters wrong?” Charlotte asked, watching Bayley closely, trying to see how the other woman would take her words. None of this would really work as effectively if Charlotte couldn’t get the girl on board.

 

Bayley thought about this, it made sense but she was still hesitant. Perhaps her experience with Mandy Rose had affected her more deeply than she’d thought but she sensed there was something more at work here. Flair wasn’t being entirely truthful with her or, at least, she wasn’t revealing everything she thought or felt.

 

More to buy herself time than anything Bayley asked: “how would this work?”

 

Charlotte had prepared herself for that question. “You get sole access to interviews with Becky while she trains. In return you give good press, you highlight the good, make people want to come here.” She explained.

 

Bayley had been concerned it might be something like this. She found herself on the horns of a personal dilemma. Everything about her screamed that she should not and would not write propaganda for any reason. It wasn’t what good journalists did. On the other hand, her conscience was far from clear on this matter. Her entire relationship was Sasha was one gigantic ethical lapse. She mulled her options for a long time before, crossing her fingers inwardly, she did what she had to.

 

“I appreciate your tip and your consideration Ms. Flair but I’m afraid I can’t promise I’ll exclusively ‘highlight the good’ as you put it. I’ll report what I see as I see it and do it in a fair and unbiased way. But if that means telling people things that aren’t always complimentary to your gym then that’s what I’d do. If that is a deal breaker I understand but I’m afraid I can’t budge on this point,” as she finished this speech she felt her insides tighten. She was certain that Flair would ask her to leave at any moment.

 

Charlotte gritted her teeth, the line in the sand was a sharp one. Trying to swallow her pride, she nodded. “Fine, report what you see. Just give Lynch a break, and don’t tell her I said this, but take it easy on her. She’s been through hell.”

 

Charlotte wanted to point out she was probably only defending Becky because the girl worked for her. It wasn’t like she actually cared or anything, wasn’t like she had witnessed the former champion crying like a baby when Becky thought nobody was around.

 

“Report what you have to, just don’t hurt her worse. The media screwed her over before.” Charlotte didn’t want to see Becky get hurt.

 

“I...can't promise I’ll never offend her but I won’t ever do anything personal,” Bayley finally said, it was the best she could do.

 

Charlotte was about to reply when once more she was cut off, but this time by Becky. Becky had spotted Bayley, she knew her from TV.

 

“What. Is. She. Doing. Here.?” Becky snapped, fist balled at her sides.

 

Charlotte stepped between them, pressing a hand to Becky’s shoulder, pushing her back. “She’s here to help.”

 

Becky ignored Charlotte. “Who from my old crew was your source,” Becky demanded, looking Bayley dead in the eyes.

 

Dealing with Sasha all this time served Bayley in good stead now, if she hadn’t had that practice she might have cowered before the angry woman in front of her. Instead, she kept her face impassive and looked Becky Lynch right in the eye before saying: “I can’t tell you that Ms. Lynch I’m sorry.”

 

Becky gave a humorless laugh, looking to Charlotte and back to Bayley. Anger radiated from the Irish woman, so much so that she was shaking. “You can’t tell me or you won’t? I lost everything, but I guess everybody can make a career out of detailing somebody’s downward spiral.”

 

The red-head was furious, she knew it wasn’t Bayley’s fault but she harbored a lot of resentment towards the media. There was more that Becky wanted to say, but she swallowed the words down.

 

“Go cooldown or something.” Charlotte’s tone was eerily calm. She was used to Becky’s mood swings and lashing out by now.

 

Becky huffed in irritation, tempted to be a brat and cause chaos. But in the end, her good judgment won out and she walked away.

 

“You’ll have to forgive her, she’s a little more than rough around the edges,” Charlotte muttered as she watched Becky leave.

 

Bayley shrugged “I’ve interviewed Brock Lesnar, trust me, I’ve dealt with worse”. She paused then to consider Flair before adding “there’s no point in my trying to talk to her now but...I get the sense there is more to this story than just Becky Lynch.”

 

“You’d be surprised, but yeah there is more to her story. She fell hard from grace and she has a hard shell to crack, but deep down…” Charlotte trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. She wasn’t sure how to describe Becky to the reporter. “Somewhere under all that brokenness is a person who just wants to belong somewhere.”

 

Bayley nodded, this tallied with her estimation, but she then shook her head and said: “actually Ms. Flair, I was referring to you.”

 

Charlotte arched a single brow. “What about me?”

 

Bayley put her professional mask on as she answered: “look at it from my point of view or from that of a reader. Becky Lynch resurfaces after basically falling off the face of the Earth. Not only that, but she’s done so at the gym of the legendary Ric Flair, and seemingly with his daughter’s active endorsement. There is just as much of a story here from YOUR angle, and your fathers, as there is from Becky’s.”

 

“My father is a sap for the broken, I don’t know what he sees in her, but he sees something.  Maybe she’s as much of his shot at redemption as he is hers. All I know is if I am going to tell you what I think about her, I’m going to need a hell of a drink.” Charlotte had been putting up with Becky for a few weeks now. The girl got on her nerves, but there was something about the brokenness that appealed to Charlotte’s emotions.

 

“Sounds good, know a place?”

 

**Bayley/Charlotte**

 

“This is...something,” Bayley said as she looked around the interior of the bar.

 

Charlotte gave a small laugh. “Yeah, my uncle is kind of a handful.” Charlotte followed Bayley’s gaze. The bar was very much a sports bar, famous people from Boston hung on the wall. A framed photo of Charlotte’s father and the bar owner Arn Anderson hung on the wall.

 

“Uncle Arn opened this place when my dad finally refunded the twenty-thousand dollars Uncle Arn had given him. My dad paid it back with interest and Uncle Arn opened the Four Horsemen Sports Bar.” Charlotte was proud of this place, she had spent summers during college bartending and working any shift she could to earn extra money. “Uncle Arn says that if these walls could talk, they’d tell quite the story.”

 

“Arn Anderson? The boxer?” Bayley asked, interestedly. She primarily covered MMA as a result of the current cultural zeitgeist but she had an interest in combat sports in general.

 

Charlotte nodded her head. “Yeah, he and dad used to be real close back in the day. Still are, they consider each other like brothers.”

 

“That’s cool, my Papi used to love watching him,” Bayley said with a smile as she fondly recalled watching the fights with her father on their small TV.

 

Charlotte considered Bayley for a moment, before leading the way to the corner seats of the bar. Thankfully it wasn’t too busy for that time of day, and Charlotte secured them two seats. “You’re close with your dad?”

 

“Yeah, he’s my hero,” Bayley said, meaning every word.

 

Charlotte knew that feeling well. “My dad is mine as well, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him.” She wanted to keep her dad’s legacy strong.

 

Bayley nodded as she dug a small recorder out of her bag and set it on the table before raising an eyebrow at Charlotte and asking: “so, do you mind if we’re on the record?”

 

Charlotte eyed the recorder, part of her wanted to be defensive and say that she hadn’t really brought Bayley there for an interview. However, she knew that she had to give a little. “Alright, we can be on the record.”

 

“Thank you,” Bayley said with a smile before she settled into her chair and asked: “soooo do I go to the bar? Or what? How do I get a drink?”

 

Chuckling, the gym owner turned her attention to the barkeep of the night. “Hey Roman, can me and my friend get some drinks.” She called, already knowing that because of who she was, her money was no good there. If she tried to pay, Arn would just find a way to refund her money. Turning her full attention back to Bayley she gave a small smile. “Get whatever you want, on me.”

 

Bayley considered and then said: “something single malt, over fifteen years, and with a drop of water please.”

 

Roman eyed Bayley curiously, side-eying her before he got both her and Charlotte some drinks. “It’s not often you bring new blood around here Charlie. Who is this?” Roman asked, nodding to Bayley.

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the nickname. “She’s just a friend Roman, it’s not like that. More of a business acquaintance actually.” She wasn’t sure Bayley deserved the title of friend. “We’ll see if she can become a friend depending on how the night goes.” There was no malice in Charlotte’s voice though, she was open to building a working relationship with Bayley.

 

Feeling the mounting awkwardness Bayley half stood and offered her hand to the bartender saying: “Bayley Martinez, I’m a reporter.”

  


Roman shook her hand, sizing her up, he apparently was okay with what he saw because he gave a small smile. “Charlotte never could avoid the troublemakers. Don’t write anything to damning about my girl.” He then walked back down to the other side of the bar, leaving them to their conversation.

 

Charlotte took a sip of her beer and then pivoted her body towards Bayley. “So what are the burnings questions you have Bayley?”

 

Bayley matched the gesture and sipped her own drink, letting the amber liquid burn pleasantly for a while. When she opened her eyes again she looked Charlotte Flair directly in her eyes and asked: “main question: why now? Why Becky Lynch?”

 

“Wasn’t my decision if we’re being honest. My dad sees something in her, I didn’t want to touch her. She has a reputation for being reckless and arrogant.” Charlotte let out a heavy sigh as she thought about just how crazy her dad’s plan was. However she knew that her dad believed in Becky and in a weird way, Charlotte was warming up to the Irish Lass Kicker.

 

“My dad doesn’t give up, he sees something in her, that reminds him of himself...reminds him of Reid.” Charlotte flinched as she thought of her brother. It wasn’t like he was ever truly far from her mind, but she could see why her dad was so desperate to save Becky Lynch. “He couldn’t save my brother, so he’s hell-bent on saving Becky Lynch. It’s a redemption for both of them.”

 

“Did Becky reach out to you? Or did you find her?”

 

“Honestly I don’t know. All I do know is that she showed up at our gym, apparently, my dad knew she was coming and I didn’t.” Charlotte shrugged, her dad was always a wildcard in her opinion, always throwing her curveballs.

 

“So do you and your dad usually not communicate on this stuff? I mean does he spring things on you a lot?” Bayley asked.

 

Charlotte nodded quickly. “Don’t get me wrong I love him, but ask his four ex-wives, he is not the best at communicating. He’d rather ask for forgiveness than ask permission. You know anybody like that?” Charlotte asked, turning the questions back on Bayley.

 

Bayley actually chuckled softly at this as she said: “Oh I do”. She then reasserted control of the interview by asking: “what kind of shape is Lynch in?”

 

That was a much harder question to answer, and Charlotte was silent for a moment. “She’s broken and she’s low, but the only way up from here is back to the top. I have every confidence in Rebecca that she will find her way back to the top of the mountain.”

 

“Let’s talk about the future for a second. Assuming that Lynch can get back on her feet and into fighting shape, are you and your father taking over her management?”

 

Charlotte hadn’t actually talked with Becky about this, but she assumed so. “Lynch will get back on her feet. She has the Nature Boy Ric Flair in her corner. There is no if, it’s only when. I will make damn sure to help her out. I’ll be her manager if I have too, her former managers gave her too much leash and she hung herself on it. I won’t make that same mistake. I’ll keep her reined in.”

 

Charlotte already knew Becky was going to take issue with that, but if they were going to have people buying in, then they needed to know Becky wasn’t going to be a heat-seeking missile of chaos.

 

“What kind of timetable is Becky on for getting back in the cage? Do you and your father have anyone in mind for her next opponent?”

 

“I have no idea, I am hoping to focus first on getting her back into fighting shape. We need to be careful and ease her slowly back into it. She sure as hell ain’t taking on the Boss or Ronda Rousey her first fight back.” Charlotte knew that Becky needed to build momentum first.

 

Bayley had to work to keep from smiling when she thought about how Sasha would react to learning that Becky was training again and even more at how she’d react if Becky challenged her. Resuming her professional guise she asked: “and have you and Lynch spoken about her rough patch after the Banks fight?”

 

“No, not really. It’s not like she’s wanting to relive the downward spiral.” Charlotte didn’t blame her. The media had gone after Reid and drove him to his breaking point. She could sympathize with Becky.

 

“OK, just a few more. What conditions did you and your father put on your offer to her?”

 

“She has to stay clean, no drugs and no alcohol. She trains at the gym, gets to live there and in return, she has to teach two classes a week.” Charlotte felt like the terms were more than fair in her opinion.

 

“Generous of you two, what sort of relationship do you have with Becky Lynch?”

 

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked, arching a brow, her hackles starting to rise. She didn’t know what Bayley meant by that question, and so she naturally felt defensive.

 

Bayley raised her eyebrows at Charlotte as she said” “come on Ms. Flair, I saw the way you two were interacting. Seemed like punches or hugs were seconds away.”

 

“She reminds me of my brother. Perhaps that’s what you saw.” Charlotte said not wanting to elaborate any further.

 

Sensing she was close to a breakthrough with Charlotte, Bayley reached slowly out toward her recorder and switched it off. She was hoping to build a relationship with this woman and she guessed now was a time where she could make some headway. “I know a thing or two about how difficult fighters can be to deal with.”

 

Charlotte watched her switch off the recorder, she eyed her curiously unsure if she could trust her. Finally, she relented and gave in. “She is hot as hell, but she’s also so annoying and arrogant. She thinks with her fist and her mouth, and not always with her head or her heart.” Charlotte had seen Becky break down enough, she felt drawn to her not that she’d ever admit it.

 

It was then that Bayley decided to do something reckless. Something that could, ultimately, end her journalistic career. Or at least damage it severely. But she had a sense that she could trust Charlotte, or at least that she was a kindred spirit. She sipped her drink once but didn’t look up as she asked: “are we WAY off the record now? That applies to you as much as me.”

 

“I won’t tell anybody what you say,” Charlotte promised looking her dead in the eyes. “Flair’s honor.”

 

Bayley smiled at that last but still didn’t look up as she swirled her drink. She hesitated for a few seconds but eventually asked: “I assume you’re familiar with who ‘the Boss’ is?”

 

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “You and Banks?” She wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or slightly horrified. It was quite the conflict of interest. “Not to be rude or anything, but are you sure you want to be reporting about Becky. Lynch and Banks don’t really like each other at all.”

 

Bayley reflexively thought about denying everything but Charlotte had hit the proverbial nail right on the head. Sighing, Bayley tossed off her drink and motioned for another before she looked at Charlotte again. “I met Sasha years ago before she even went pro actually. We’ve been...something since then. But recently I’ve been dealing with ‘the Boss’ more than Sasha Banks. Which is why I know what it’s like to deal with a temperamental fighter.”

 

Charlotte just nodded her head. “Well temperamental fighters have those moments of attractiveness I suppose. But they sure do drive a girl to drink.” Charlotte said, without any real hint of judgment. She just picked up her beer and downed it, feeling like perhaps she had misjudged the reporter. Perhaps they weren’t too different after all.

 

“I suppose we just have to hope that eventually, their ‘pain in the ass’ moments are fewer than those special ones…” Bayley said before cocking her head to one side and asking: “so...are you and Lynch...umm…”.

 

“No, no we are not. We can barely stand each other, I don’t care how hot she is, she’s a real asshole sometimes. It’s probably for the best that I try to keep that relationship professional.” Charlotte didn’t want to allow herself to fall for somebody who was likely to cheat on her. She knew Becky’s reputation.

 

Bayley had been about to accept a second drink that arrived without her having to ask when Charlotte said this. Fortunately, she hadn’t accepted the glass yet because she started to laugh so hard that she actually doubled over. These were honest and full belly laughs that left her gasping for air as they went on and on.

 

“Why are you laughing at me?” Charlotte asked, folding her arms across her chest.

 

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry…” Bayley said as she wiped at her eyes “...it’s just. I told myself literally those exact same things before I got involved with Sasha.”

 

Charlotte fiddled with the napkin in front of her. “Yeah well, Lynch doesn’t want me and I’m better off just trying to not look her way.”

 

Bayley just nodded, it wasn’t her place to press anyway.

 

“Anyways drink up Ms. Martinez, being around Lynch would be enough to drive any poor soul to drink. She’s a handful.” Charlotte admitted, downing the rest of her drink. She signaled for Roman to bring them another round.

 

Bayley lifted her glass to Charlotte and toasted: “here to the fighters, keeping our lives interesting and us employed”. They clinked glasses and both took long pulls. Bayley spent the next few hours at the bar with Charlotte talking about the industry, swapping stories, and learning what she could.

 

As she’d suspected she found that Charlotte was a kindred spirit. She’d been genuinely touched when Charlotte had opened up about her brother’s death to her. Though they were still very different people, and they had just met, Bayley sensed that Charlotte could be a friend. She’d then amused herself by wondering what Sasha might think of the blonde woman.

 

On a more practical level, Bayley realized at some point during the evening that she did still need to be functional. So she switched to soda about halfway through so her head was clearer when she left the bar. The street was crowded with early bar-goers and people leaving work, trying to get a ride share to the front of the bar would have been a time-consuming process. Realizing this she decided to walk to a more thinly people stretch of pavement.

 

As she walked she thought what she might talk about with Sasha when they talked later. She decided it was probably too early to be too specific about why she was in Boston. Flair had been right, Sasha would be amused if she found out she was there for a story on Becky Lynch. She was still thinking about this as she got in her ride and headed back to her hotel. She had some major writing to do.

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha was used to competing in front of large crowds in what amounted to underwear. Years of doing so had essentially immunized her against being self-conscious. So it was not much of an adjustment for her to be walking around in a robe in front of strangers. Being nude in front of them had been.

 

Sasha was, justly she felt, very proud of her body. She worked very hard to stay in fighting trim and felt she was entitled to a little vanity. This was precisely why she’d agreed to do the ESPN Magazine Body issue. Well, that and the fact that Teddy Long, her manager, had thought it would be a great way for her to raise her public profile. A goal that was almost as important to her as her fighting these days.

 

Sasha was in talks to appear on a sitcom and even on SNL in the coming weeks. If those went well she was hoping to parlay them into possibly getting into a movie. If THAT worked out then who knew what the limit would be? She’d probably work with a writer to release an autobiography, maybe open a side business, who could say? All Sasha knew was that ‘the Boss’ saw the world as her oyster and she determined to seize it.

 

Not everyone was as enthused about this plan, however. Most notably her trainer Bobby Lashley and, of course, Bayley. Lashley’s concern was obvious, all the time Sasha spent dealing with her side gigs meant less time training. Sasha could understand his point of view even if she thought Lashley was nagging. Sasha was as familiar with the rest of the bantamweight division as anyone and she knew there wasn’t a serious challenger left.

 

Which was part of the reason why she was still here. As she’d been leaving she’d noticed the name ‘Paige Bevis’ on a posted schedule for the day’s shoots. Sasha knew that Bevis was a rising star in the flyweight division whom many thought would have gold around her waist in no time. Maybe so, but Sasha had another use for her first.

 

Paige was getting famous not only for her fighting but her brash attitude in and out of the cage. In many ways, she was a lot like Sasha. In her private moments, Sasha could admit that this was part of the reason why she didn’t like the British woman, she liked to think of herself as unique and the idea someone was doing what she did bothered her. But the Boss would remedy this.

 

Sasha walked through the halls of the studio that the shoots were being held at. She’d finished up her part should have been leaving but she had other plans. Plans she hadn’t shared with anyone simply because she knew that they’d disapprove. Stopping ber her dressing room to grab her custom sunglasses and rings she then asked where Paige’s dressing room was and set off.

 

As luck would have it she spotted Paige and her entourage lounging around waiting for their shoot. Paige was sitting in a chair looking at her phone, wearing a rob of the same type as Sasha. She had a small knot of women with her thought none seemed to be paying much attention. This suited Sasha just fine as she waited for her moment.

 

It finally came when a production assistant approached Paige and told her that she’d be up in a few minutes. Sasha took her cue and strode brashly up the assistant, hip checking Paige out of the way she did.

 

“Hey, uh we need to redo my shoot those photos aren’t nearly boss enough,” she said in her most arrogant tone of voice.

 

“Uh, excuse me,” Paige said indignantly but Sasha cut her off. Without even looking at Paige she simply raised a finger in a quieting gesture.

 

“Adults are talking little girl, shh!” she said dismissively without looking away from the started assistant.

 

“Umm, Ms. Banks I-” the poor woman said before she was interrupted by Paige.

 

“What did you say to me?” she asked Sasha angrily. Sasha still didn’t look at the other woman but simply turned her head to speak over her shoulder.

 

“I didn’t say anything TO you, I spoke NEAR you, I don’t talk to nobodies,” she said.

 

“Yo who the fuck do you think you are bitch?” Paige said putting a hand on Sasha’s shoulder and trying to spin her around. This was the opening Sasha had been hoping for, she allowed Paige to turn her but then rotated quickly to shove the other woman with a palm her chest. Paige went stumbling backward and would have fallen if her entourage hadn’t caught her.

 

“Don’t touch the boss unless you want to get burned bitch,” Sasha sneered.

 

“Oh, I’ll do more than touch you! How does a black eye sound?” Paige snarled, getting right in Sasha’s face. Sasha gave a dismissive snort.

 

“Sweetie, you’re not in my league,” she said in a mocking tone.

 

“You’re right, I’m better!” Paige shot back. Sasha didn’t respond right away, instead, she just lifted her hands so Paige could read the rings on her fingers that read ‘Legit Boss’. She held the diamond-encrusted words in Paige’s face for a moment before she spoke.

 

“You know what these mean?” she asked coolly.

 

“That you’re tacky as fuck?” Paige snapped. Sasha just shook her head sadly at this, as though Paige had let her down with this answer.

 

“It’s mean’s I’m better than you and always will be, just enjoy the view from below,” Sasha said sweetly.

 

“Fuck you! Any time any place I’ll I’ll shove those damned rings up your ass!” Paige shouted.

 

“You can’t handle me, sweetie, you’d have come up to a real woman’s division,” Sasha taunted.

 

“That sounds like you’re scared to me,” Paige challenged.

 

“Just keep trying to be me, it’s as good as you’ll ever be,” Sasha answered, still speaking in cloyingly sweet tones.

 

“Sounds like you’re the one who’s scared ya cunt!” Paige growled. This had been exactly the provocation Sasha had been hoping for. She gave Paige an appraising look through narrowed eyes for a few moments. Then, without warning, she spat in the British woman’s face.

 

Sure and clockwork she saw Paige’s fist coming toward her. The other woman was fast, sure, but not nearly fast enough. Sasha simply swayed back out of the way of the punch and then drove her own fist firmly into Paige’s face. The other woman staggered but before anyone could do anything else Sasha felt many restraining hands pulling her backward and away from Paige.  Perfect, she thought.

 

“You got anything else to say, bitch?” Sasha shouted as she made a show of fighting against the crowd of studio staff that was trying to pull her backward.

 

“You get your ass back here!” Paige roared angrily as she too was pulled backward. The British woman was clearly furious and was trying with all her might to get at Sasha.

 

“What you want to get embarrassed again?” Sasha called back as she continued her show of struggling to get back at Paige. Paige, however, was so apoplectic that her response wasn’t readily understandable though everyone got the gist. When she’d allowed herself to be pulled all the way back to the door leading out of room Sasha shouted: you name the place and weight class and I’ll kick your ass!”

 

About an hour later Sasha was sitting in the back of a limo heading to her home in LA. She was sitting next to Teddy and across from Bobby as her manager watched the whole incident on a tablet. One of the studio workers had captured the whole thing on their phone and of course, it had hit the internet and set it on fire.

 

“That was stupid playa,” Teddy said ruefully as he watched.

 

“It was fucking brilliant, now I get to take down the biggest name in MMA that isn’t me. I’m sure she’ll pick someplace in the UK so I’ll get to embarrass her at home too!” Sasha said with a smirk.

 

“It was still fucking stupid,” Lashley put in.

 

“You know, fuck you two sometimes, you love ‘the Boss’ when she’s making you rich but you don’t like what she has to do to keep the spotlight,” Sasha said sulkily as she folded her arms.

 

“I have NEVER liked ‘the Boss’” Lashley pointed out. Before an argument could develop Long stepped in.

 

“So what do you want me to do playa?” he asked Sasha.

 

“Get in touch with Paige’s people and make this happen, there isn’t anyone serious left for me in the bantamweight division so I can do this and then get back to whenever someone decides they want their ass kicked when they challenge for my gold,” Sasha said. Long nodded and Sasha sat back with a self-satisfied smile as she lowered her sunglasses.

 

She was thinking about the party she about to throw. She completely forgot that she was supposed to talk to Bayley that night.

 

**Becky**

 

_-The next day-_

 

The blaring of Becky's alarm clock woke her up, a frown pulling at her lips. She was sore and not in a good way. Becky always liked being sore from a good work out, or from tiring herself out with a marathon sex session. No, she found herself sore because her workout the previous day hadn't been good. She kept reflecting on her call with Finn, and how after all she wanted to do was punch stuff. Her body was paying the price for her impulsive decision every muscle felt sore and tight.

 

It took Becky a few tries before she finally managed to get her alarm to shut up. The Irish woman was tired but rolled out of bed and onto her feet. There were certain mornings where her knee was stiffer than others and today her knee was screaming at her. Limping towards her kitchen, she made herself some coffee.

 

She could hear faint music coming from the gym and wanted to ignore it. Becky was in no mood to be chipper, but slowly made her way to investigate the sound. What she found surprised her, but she knew it shouldn’t have.

 

Charlotte was near the entrance painting one of the walls, an ugly shade of white. She apparently hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t alone, because she was still painting and ignoring Becky.

 

“What are you doing?” Becky called out to her.

 

Charlotte jumped slightly and then glanced over her shoulder. “I’m painting.” She said, eager to not have to deal with the former fighter.

 

Charlotte was just happy because Bob Orton’s check had cleared and now she had money to fix up the gym. Charlotte was in a good mood, she had come into work early to pay off some of the debt that the gym was in. Now she was painting and trying to make the gym look more like it had in its heyday.

  


Becky limped down the stairs and stared at the spot that Charlotte was painting. “You missed a patch.” She said smugly, pointing to a spot that Charlotte had in fact missed.

 

Charlotte growled in the back of her throat, her grip tightening on her paintbrush until her knuckles turned as white as the paint. “You could help you know.”

 

Becky rolled her eyes but found herself picking up a paint roller to help Charlotte. Becky wasn’t even sure why she was doing it, she was sore and there were other things she could be doing, like eating or sleeping.

 

The duo worked in silence for a few minutes, neither of them really wanted to talk to the other. Charlotte was fine with the silence except that she noticed Becky grimacing with every stroke.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Charlotte finally demanded, unable to help herself. If Becky got hurt, that would wreck Charlotte’s plans, and the blonde was not in the mood to have her plans ruined.

 

“Excuse me?” Becky asked, her eyes darkening. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you blondie.”

 

Charlotte arched a brow and tilted her head. “I was talking about the fact that you keep wincing, are you always this touchy in the mornings?”

 

Becky grumbled a few choice words under her breath before she turned to face Charlotte. “I’m a little sore from working out.”

 

“I saw you working out, maybe don’t push yourself too much,” Charlotte suggested, she knew it was selfish but she needed Becky to be healthy. “I can see if one of our other trainers can give you a back massage.”

 

Becky was very confused by the fact that it seemed like Charlotte actually cared. “Who are you and what have you done with the bitchy blonde who hates me?”

 

Charlotte scowled at her flicked some of the paint at Becky. “Stop being an asshole, do you want help or not?”

 

The idea of a nice massage had Becky willing to let Charlotte win this little war of words. “Alright, I suppose if one of the other trainers could help then I wouldn’t be opposed.”

 

Charlotte did her best not to roll her eyes but set her paintbrush down. “Keep painting and I’ll go see if I can find Liv.”

 

Becky nodded slowly. “Yeah okay, I guess I’ll be here.” She mumbled, going back to painting. It was only after Charlotte left that she realized she had been conned out of her morning off. Now she was stuck painting until Charlotte decided to come back with somebody named Liv that Becky had yet to meet.

 

“Son of a bitch.” Becky huffed, but unlike the old Becky, she just kept painting. It was better than moping in the apartment about Finn.

 

Thankfully Charlotte did return a few minutes later with a younger blonde and a woman with black hair and red streaks through it.

 

“This is Liv, she’s a trainer here too but she’s also good at athletic massages,” Charlotte explained nodding to the other blonde.

 

Becky gave a flirtatious smile at Liv. “Hello there gorgeous, you good with your hands then?”

 

Charlotte paled as the other woman stepped in front of Liv and shoved Becky hard. “Don’t talk to my girlfriend that way.” The woman snapped, harshly.

 

“Becky could you not hit on your co-workers, that’d be great. This is Ruby Riott, one of the other trainers here.” Charlotte wasn’t sure she could pull Ruby off of Becky if the girl attacked but Ruby seemed satisfied that Becky had gotten the hint about Liv.

 

Liv simply giggled as if she was amused by the chaos. “It’s okay Rue-Rue, I’ll fix fire crotch over here up and we can get her ready for training.”

 

“Training, what’s going on?” Becky felt confused, she didn’t know what was happening.

 

Charlotte had wanted to break the news to Becky more carefully but since the cat was already out of the bag she decided to go for it. “Ruby is going to train you and help you get back into ring shape, akin to what your former trainer… Dave Finlay did?”

 

Becky’s expression darkened considerably and she very much wanted to punch Charlotte right in her perfect little face. “Nobody is comparable to Dave Finlay, I doubt she’d even be worthy enough to tape his hands.”

 

Charlotte met her expression dead on, regarding Becky much like a teacher regarding an unruly child. “Be that as it may, she’s going to train you. Now show her some respect and play nice.” Charlotte’s words were condescending, everybody knew that.

 

For a minute it looked like Becky and Charlotte were going to come to blows, but then at the last moment, Becky seemed to deflate in on herself.

 

“Fine,” Becky said, feeling every bit the defeated person she was.

 

**Becky**

 

More than winning, Becky despised losing. With her loss to Sasha, she had lost three professional fights. Losing to somebody who was not a professional was just downright humiliating as she was quickly finding out.

 

Charlotte hadn’t been joking when she had talked about finding somebody to whip Becky back into shape. Ruby Riott was doing just as instructed to by Charlotte, she was putting Becky through the wringer.

 

If physical therapy had been rough, boot camp Riott style was even harder. It had been the longest week of Becky’s life.  To Becky it felt like Ruby was going out of her way to stretch her longer, to make her work for every hold.

 

They were currently going through some light kickboxing exercises, focusing on that style of workout for the day. Becky was already drenched in sweat and they were only twenty minutes in. Her knee was aching already but Ruby wasn’t the type to give you a break unless she thought one was earned.

 

It was at that moment that Charlotte happened to make her appearance. Her dad was away on business and had asked that she check in on Becky’s training.

 

Careful eyes studies Becky’s stance and with a sigh, Charlotte climbed up onto the side of the boxing ring. She leaned on the ropes, before scoffing. “You’re letting your guard down Lynch.”

 

“What do you know?” Becky muttered, slightly out of breath. She was trying to focus on Ruby, as the girl advanced on her. She swung with her right hand, but Ruby easily ducked and tagged Becky’s ribs with a quick one-two, before scooting out of the way of the Irish Lass Kicker.

 

Becky tried to ignore the way that Charlotte was staring at her, she didn’t need the blonde to tell her an ‘I-told-you-so’.

 

Charlotte climbed the rest of the way into the boxing ring. “My dad is a boxing legend, I can help you.” She offered, knowing damn well that Becky was going to be stubborn and pretend that she didn’t need it.

 

“I’m a black belt in judo, karate, and my silver gloves in savate. I think I can handle some boxing.” Becky said dismissively. Truth be told, the more she watched Ruby, the more she was jealous that the girl didn’t seem to limp when she walked.

 

Becky was getting agitated mostly at herself, she wanted her knee to be at a hundred percent but she wasn’t sure it was ever going to be like it was. However, Charlotte had been bossing her around lately and Becky was ready to make her shut up.

 

“You may have a lot of skills Rebecca, but I can still teach you a thing or two,” Charlotte said, her tone eerily calm. Charlotte was used to people underestimating her, and she knew that was exactly what Becky was doing.

 

“Even on my worst days, I’m still better than you on your best,” Becky warned, feeling just a little bit cocky. She didn’t know if her knee would hold up, but she was out to prove to the blonde that she wasn’t somebody to fuck with. “Let’s go.”

 

Ruby looked unsure but climbed out of the ring to let them go at it. Becky and Charlotte had some weird energy between them, and if this was the way to solve it then so be it.

 

Charlotte quickly taped up her hands and put on some gloves. She figured she’d let Becky come to her, let the former MMA fighter tire herself out.

 

“You’re not even in fighting clothes,” Becky muttered, nodding to Charlotte’s button-up and dress pants.

 

Charlotte shrugged. “It should be no problem for you to kick my ass then, should it?”

 

Becky’s eyes darkened and she charged forward, letting her temper get the best of her. She swung, landing a few shots against Charlotte’s stomach and sides.

 

Charlotte wasn’t too surprised by the onslaught, she knew she had provoked Becky. What caught her off guard was how it seemed that even though it was a frenzied attack, Becky seemed to still be holding back.

 

Waiting for what she knew was coming, the second Becky dropped her guard, Charlotte nailed her with a hard cross, that knocked the former champion to the ground.

 

Becky clearly hadn’t expected the haymaker, because one second she was raining down lefts and rights on Charlotte, and the next she was flat on her ass.

 

“What the fuck was that?” Becky snapped, irritation written plainly over her features.

 

Charlotte was shaking out her hand. “I told you not to drop your guard. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.” She flexed her hand before extending it to Becky to try and help her up.

 

Becky knocked Charlotte hand away and rolled out of the ring. She was furious that she had been shown up. She took off her gloves, trying to rein in her temper. Becky knew she was out of practice and even if she wasn’t, boxing wasn’t one of her talents.

 

“Look, you fell from grace Lynch, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find your way back up to the top of the mountain. You need to be willing to let people help.” Charlotte warned, before nodding to Becky’s knee. “Have you been doing your strengthening exercises?”

 

Becky couldn’t look her in the eyes but shook her head. “Sometimes, it just hurts a lot.”

 

Charlotte sighed to herself. “You’re done for today Becky, go ice your knee or something.” Charlotte knew that Becky needed a break, she had been getting progress reports from Liv and Ruby.

 

“I think I’m going to go downtown, I need a drink,” Becky said, intentionally being testy. She was trying to get a rise out of Charlotte.

 

It didn’t seem like Charlotte was going to give her one though. Aside from the briefest flash of irritation, Charlotte managed to hide her emotions.

 

“If that is what you wish to do Rebecca than so be it, but I will advise you to use what brain cells you still have and reconsider. Drinking and bad decision is what got you here in the first place” Charlotte said, folding her arms over her chest.

 

“Oh my god, how condescending can you be? So you got a lucky punch in on an already defeated person, have a fucking cookie.” Becky wanted nothing more than to punch Charlotte’s lights out, but she knew at most she’d get one punch in before Ruby and Liv would be all over her. Besides laying hands on the boss would cost her, her job and her shot at redemption.

 

Becky bumped shoulders with Charlotte and walked out, grabbing only her leather jacket on the way out. If her knee was throbbing before, by the time she had walked a couple blocks to the downtown scene, her knee was on fire. She could see a bar up ahead, all she wanted to do was go inside and get warm. Hell, even a few beers sounded better.

 

Stuffing her hands into her jacket to try and get warm, Becky’s fingers brushed over something cold and plastic. She pulled the thing out and found herself holding her 4-month sobriety chip. She was getting nearer to five months now, and the thought was enough to give her pause. Did she really want to let somebody like Charlotte Flair drive her to drink again?

 

Pushing those thoughts away, Becky ran her fingers over the chip. She was having a mental war with herself. Part of her didn’t want to feel and the other part just wanted to be able to drink and feel something other than apathy and pain. Becky slipped the chip back in her pocket, not wanting to feel guilty.

 

Slowly Becky’s hand reached for the door handle to the bar before she hesitated when someone spoke up behind her.

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this...but...think about it.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends!
> 
> Thank you so much for being patient with us as we got this next chapter out. Rest assured that Perseverance is a priority for us but we'd rather take our time and make sure we get you a good story.
> 
> First, thanks to my wonderful and talented co-writer KrashlynPride who continues to astound me with her prodigious talent. Really guys, I just feel happy to be along for the ride with this girl!
> 
> Second, because you're here, I'd like to point you in the direction of some of our other works in case you like our writing. Personally, I can't recommend Krashlyn's series 'Finding Home' enough to you. I'm not a soccer guy but this story is just raw and powerful emotion captured in words. 
> 
> It can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/874218
> 
> As for me? I'd like to direct you all to my primary work: The Horsewomen of Las Vegas. This is a story that follows the four Horsewomen in a universe where Bayley is a detective, Sasha is a nurse, Becky is a criminal, and Charlotte is a crime boss. Intrigue, murder, romance, dozens of WWE cameos, and Becky Lynch crashing planes and drowning people in sewage (seriously). And if you need another recommendation ask ClexAloha, whom you'll see the comments here.
> 
> Horsewomen can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997911/chapters/34760702
> 
> So what did everyone think of this chapter? Will Becky be able to get out of her own way and let others help her? Or is she in danger of falling off the wagon? Can Charlotte navigate her feelings for the Lass Kicker and her desire to save her family legacy? Is Sasha going to be able to keep on top if she continues to let 'the Boss' rule? Can Bayley do this story justice and, just maybe, save Sasha from herself?
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> \- AttackPlatypus/Hedone


	5. Chapter 5: Back at It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,  
> I just wanted to talk to you all and say that I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Also, I really wanted to say that I was a huge fan of this work from the start and would have been content to just enjoy the amazing ride. Obviously, things change but I just wanted to let everyone know that I am trying my best to keep this as close as possible to Krash’s original intent and writing style. Honestly, I have probably re-read certain segments over fifteen times trying to get the characters to sound right. Hopefully I managed to capture some of Krash’s magic and keep the story feeling the same. If you ever read this Krash, I just want you to know that I respect all your work and hope that my interpretation doesn’t feel untrue to what you started. 
> 
> #Burritosdeserveagoodhome  
> Badgoose

**Bayley/Becky**

Becky’s hand paused just inches from the solid brass handle that separated her from the promise of warmth and alcohol. The weight of the chip in her pocket and Bayley’s words making her pause, “You’re right. You probably shouldn’t be saying that to me.”

 

Bayley contemplated the disgraced former champion with a tiny frown on her face, “I guess we are both doing something we shouldn’t.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be happy to get the exclusive? ‘Lynch falls off the wagon’ would probably get you more hits than whatever fluff piece Charlotte paid you for.”

 

“Probably, and if I were a bit more mercenary I’d just step back and watch you go in there. But I’m not and I’m asking you to think about it,” Bayley said earnestly. She’d known addiction from the outside, been close to addicts in the past, and she knew that if she let Becky Lynch do this without speaking up that no story would ever assuage her conscience.

 

The extra time to think made Becky drop her hand and sigh. Her knee flaring with pain and reminding her of how stupid she was being for allowing Charlotte’s little lesson drive her to this point, “Fine. I’m thinking about it. Happy?”

 

Bayley pulled her coat more tightly around herself as she nodded and suggested: “It’s a start, I know a good coffee place near here. I’ll buy you a cup if you like?”. In truth she only knew that there WAS a coffee place nearby, not if it was any good.

 

Becky slowly turned around, careful not to agitate her knee anymore than she already had. Giving the journalist a quick once over and noting that there seemed to be no deception within her. “Aren’t you already energetic enough without the coffee? I might take you up on the offer just to see that.” Deciding that if she was going to start somewhere, maybe a new friend wouldn’t be the worst place. Finn’s absence looming ever since their phone call.

 

Bayley snorted softly at this as she turned and beckoned for the Irish woman to follow her. As she did she tossed back over her shoulder: “How do you think I STAY this energetic?”.

 

As they walked Bayley did her best not to study Lynch. She knew from first hand experience how raw the other woman’s nerves would be right now. So instead, partly because she was still slightly buzzed and partly because it amused her, she tilted her head back as they walked and blew long streams of vapor into the night air. As she did, she made herself smile.

 

Each step towards the coffee shop sent fresh buzzes of pain through Becky’s knee, but she stubbornly wouldn’t allow it to show on her face. Shoving her hands deep into the warm pockets of her coat and tucking her chin in to conserve heat the best she could. Watching the brunette amuse herself out of the corner of her eye and shaking her head at the woman’s enjoyment at something so mundane.

 

When they finally sat down in the tiny little coffee shop - walls lined with old magazine and newspaper articles on Charles Darwin and other famous figures from history- Becky couldn’t help a groan of pleasure from escaping as the pressure on her knee disappeared and the pain filtered slowly away.

 

A hulking mass of a man strolled over to their table. His massive arms covered in tattoos. He quickly introduced himself as ‘Dave’ and took their order. Smiling politely and returning behind the counter to make their drinks.

 

Becky picked up a packet of artificial sweetener and picked at it with her nails. Not really sure how to start a conversation with the woman sitting across from her. Digging deep she tried to focus on what she had learned in rehab and the mandatory interpersonal interactions lessons, “Well you must have questions right? I mean you are doing a story on me. What better place to get info than the source?” Not the best, but at least she said something.

 

Bayley wasn’t fully paying attention. She couldn’t take eyes off the hulking man behind the counter. Turning back to Becky she said: “Maybe Charlotte should sign him?”

 

Becky was momentarily affronted. Turning her head to glance at the giant before returning to stare at the distracted woman, “So that’s what Charlotte feels like when I ignore her.” Shaking her head at the slightly odd way Bayley had been acting tonight, “Sure. I don’t really give a shit who she signs.”

 

Bayley had to bite down on a giggle before it escaped her mouth. Maybe she was more tipsy than she remembered. She quickly looked around hoping her coffee would be here soon. Noticing another wince from the other woman, Bayley lasered in on it asking: “How's the old hinge?”

 

Normally Becky would be upset that someone had called her out on the pain in her knee, but she was too tired to care and wasn’t looking forward to another night of sleeping awkwardly after pushing herself too hard. “Feels a bit rusty. Just need to knock it off and it will be right as rain.” Wanting so badly to believe in her words with as much confidence as she projected.

 

“Well it seems like it could have been a lot worse, I’ve seen you in ring again and you’re moving almost as well as you were before the injury,” Bayley offered, trying to be encouraging.

 

The words had the opposite effect as Becky was reminded of an old grudge she had never gotten over despite her best efforts to let go of unnecessary baggage. “You seemed to know a lot about me before my injury. Going to give me the same bullshit line or will give me the courtesy of telling me who stabbed me in the back?” The pack of sweetener crumbling in her fist as tiny grains escaped and fell through her fingers to the table below. Slowly accumulating on the table as she waited for Bayley’s response.

 

This WAS enough to bring Bayley’s mind further back into focus. It struck her just how similar dealing with Becky was to dealing with Sasha. Though she was far from stupid enough to bring this up. Sighing inwardly at the answer she had to give Bayley mentally prepared herself.

 

“If by ‘bullshit line’ you mean my refusal to give up confidential sources then, yes, I have to stand by that. There are certain things you just don’t do in journalism and that is one of them. But I can say that I was just doing my job, just reporting, it was never personal,” she said quietly.

 

Rationally, Becky knew that the vast majority of the world would side with Bayley but she couldn’t shake the ugly reality that someone she had trusted had betrayed her to this woman. She saw Dave finally returning and welcomed the distraction. Using it to sneak in a last word, petty as it may be. “That’s the thing you journalist types don’t understand. For a fighter, it’s all personal.”

 

Bayley relaxed at this. She’d been expecting more of a tantrum and she felt as though she’d just skirted disaster. Knowing it was her turn to be gracious she said: “It has been a real privilege to watch you train Becky.”

 

As Dave set their orders down in front of them and went off, Becky looked out the window and took a deep breath. Trying to fight the mistrust she had towards Bayley and accept the offered olive branch. “Some of your work is alright... I guess.” Taking a quick sip of her coffee and recoiling at the taste, "Bleh. Didn't you say the coffee was good?" Already pouring in sugar to attempt and salvage the brown liquid.

 

Bayley sniffed tentatively at her own cup before taking a cautious sip and nearly spitting it out. Shuddering she admitted that: “I MAY have never been here before”. Casting one look over at the giant behind the counter she added quietly: “But I’m not going to complain...I’ll just write something on yelp later.”

 

Becky chuckled. Unable to stop at how animated the brunette was and finding herself wondering what state of mind she was in. “I’m sure you will. Putting those journalist skills to good use I see.” Taking a sip of her own drink that was now probably fifty percent sugar and deeming it a failure. Pushing it towards the middle of the table and abandoning the liquid. “So tell me; are your drunk right now, or are you always this much of a space cadet?”

 

Bayley was inwardly startled but did her best to hide it as she sat up a bit straighter and asked: “What...what...makes you ask that?”

 

Becky had originally been just joking and pulling the other woman’s leg but her eyebrow raised at the response Bayley gave. “You are talking to an alcoholic. I think I might know a few things. Also your poker face could not be any worse.”

 

Bayley opened her mouth to protest but then decided against it. Still, she felt she had to save face so she adopted a prim expression that was as good as a blinking sign reading ‘I’m drunk’. Realizing this she too began trying to turn her cup of terrible coffee into a cup of terrible but sugary coffee. All while keeping her eyes resolutely on the table.

 

“I...only a little,” she muttered.

 

For the first time in a while Becky actually experienced an emotion that wasn’t on the more depressing spectrum. She snickered and felt some of the weight that normally pulled her down lighten just a tad. Her eyes took in the rosy cheeks and pursed lips across from her that in another life she might have found herself pursuing. Shaking the thought as soon as it entered. “Is it weird you admitting that makes me almost like you?”

 

“How so?” Bayley asked with a frown.

 

“I don’t know. Guess it’s just a little different seeing you as a real person.” Shrugging as her way of saying she didn’t want to go any deeper in her analysis.

 

“Ah…” Bayley said a knowing nod “...I was the ‘enemy’ before now?”

 

Becky shrugged again. Leaning back in her rickety wooden chair, “Something like that.”

 

Bayley smiled at Becky and then, after shifting in her chair, said: “I do have a lot of things I want to ask you Becky. But, first I need to know if you’re in any mood to answer questions tonight. If not, then no big deal, we’re here as friends.”

 

Becky’s nonchalant uncaring act was certainly hard to keep up with someone like Bayley. Every negative assumption she had about the journalist slowly being proved false the longer she stayed around her. The chair creaked beneath her as she leaned back onto the back two legs. “I’m concerned over your choice in friends.”

 

Bayley didn’t answer beyond a raised eyebrow. She was finding that being back in ‘professional mode’ was cutting through her buzz. Or it was motor oil coffee.

 

Suddenly nervous and a bit jittery, Becky tapped her fingers on the table. Leaning in a little closer and rubbing the back of her neck. “So. Uhh… I’ve been out the game for a while. What do you talk about with your friends?”

 

Comprehension dawned in Bayley’s mind and relaxed with a laugh. She thought for a moment and asked: “I mean...you must still have friends from before you were a fighter right? What do you talk about with them?”

 

“Not many people willing to talk to you after you’ve burned all the bridges I have. Used to talk about Pearl Jam with one of my pals back in Ireland. I don’t suppose you are into Pearl Jam, are you?” Becky was reaching and she knew it, but truth be told fighting had taken over her life and hadn’t left much room for anything outside -except the female conquests she used to relax. Everyone she considered a close friend had been somehow involved in her career and were currently back at CCS.

 

In response Bayley lifted both hands above the table in metal horns and declared: “Grunge will never die!”

 

The conversation flowed much better after they finally found an unexpected mutual point of interest.

 

The Irish woman finding herself enjoying the other woman’s company far more than she was willing to let on. She peered down at her phone and saw that it had been almost an hour and a half since she had stormed out of the gym. A deep sigh left her as she was reminded of Charlotte and how close she had been to letting herself down and throwing away all the hard work it had taken to get another lease on life. “I should probably get going now. Don’t want Charlotte to worry her little experiment went running off.”

 

“Or her skinning me alive for being the one to kidnap her experiment,” Bayley agreed with a grin as she stood. Both cups of coffee being left mostly untouched.

 

As Dave walked by to pick up their cups he dropped off the bill and left without another word. Becky saw Bayley move to pick it up and used her years of training to shoot her hand out and snatch the bit of paper before she could. “I got it.” Figuring it was the least she could do to thank the other woman without actually revealing how much she appreciated being interrupted from entering the bar in hindsight.

 

Bayley studied the other woman for a moment before nodding silently, standing, and then asking: “You OK to make it back on your own?”

 

Becky had to admit that someone showing genuine concern for her felt good. Another feeling that hadn’t happened to her too often lately. She looked down at the check and almost smiled - maybe sixty percent- “I think I can manage… Thanks.” Letting the one word hang between them.

 

Bayley smiled again as she turned to leave adding: “Don’t mention it...either thing.” She then tried to make as elegant an exit as possible unfortunately she nearly tripped over a chair as she left, somewhat spoiling the effect.

 

“Don’t go falling for me after one measly coffee date.” Her smile cracking through a little bit more. Holding in laughter at the near stumble.

 

**Becky**

 

Becky cupped her hands beneath the cold water and threw it into her face. The intense icy cold helping make her mind stop spinning for just a moment.

 

Her hands reached down and gripped the side of the sink basin tightly.

 

She stared up into the mirror and saw, not the Irish Lass Kicker, but a still broken woman that had no idea what she was doing.

 

Becky had agreed to Ric’s conditions at the time but now that some of those provisions were about to take place, she retroactively wanted to change the deal.

 

Her anxiety was spiking at the thought of having to go out there and actually teach a class.

 

Never in all her time at CCS had she taught. The world had revolved around her, and all of her team was focused on getting her ready for the next fight.

 

She hadn’t wanted to teach, and no one had ever pushed her to.

 

Becky exited the tiny bathroom and made her way downstairs while quickly pulling her long hair into a loose ponytail.

 

When she opened the door, she froze and contemplated walking right back upstairs and claiming that she felt sick.

 

Word must have gotten out locally that she was teaching a class and the gym was full of more people than Becky had seen in her time there. Almost twenty individuals between of various ages and athletic states scattered around the room and waiting for her.

 

Unbidden, her immediate reaction was to go find a drink to calm her nerves.

 

Her eyes swept over the room and stayed on Bayley and Charlotte, who were engaged in a conversation on the other side of the gym.

 

Bayley noticed her first and smiled softly. Sending Becky, a small wave that the Irish woman reluctantly and unenthusiastically returned.

 

Becky noticed that Charlotte didn’t waste any effort on any pleasantries. Just nodding at her and raising an eyebrow as if she had expected Becky to back out.

 

Becky wouldn’t give her the satisfaction and smirked before ignoring the blonde and walking farther into the gym. Willing to try this whole teaching thing even if just to spite Charlotte and prove that she wasn’t mud on the bottom of her always fashionable boots.

 

**Becky**

 

Becky had to admit that teaching a class wasn’t the worst experience in her life.

 

She had no plan going in. Falling back onto all the old drills Finlay used to run her through and doing her best to imitate how he had explained things to her.

 

Ruby had been nice enough to offer her assistance until Becky got her feet underneath her.

 

Becky’s pride had initially told her to deny the help, but she sucked it up and accepted the offer. Trying her best to put in a little effort to make things less uncomfortable between them.

 

The students seemed eager to learn from her and listened with rapt attention to her words.

 

Luckily this was just a more beginner level class so everyone there followed her instructions and Ruby barely had to do anything. Her presence used more for Becky to have another body to explain things with. Occasionally using Ruby as a partner to show off the next drill she was having the class go through.

 

The lesson was nearly over, and Becky noticed a young girl near the back that couldn’t have been older than ten. Her brown hair pulled into a ponytail while her eyes shined with an intensity that she couldn’t match physically. Wearing nn old and faded ‘Irish Lass Kicker’ shirt that Finn had insisted they make available for fans years ago.

 

She looked over to Ruby and asked, “Can you run everyone through a quick cooldown before we’re done?” Walking over towards the young girl after Ruby gave her a quick nod in the affirmative.

 

The little girl seemed surprised as Becky walked towards her. Becky bent down on her good knee so that she didn’t tower over the tiny girl who already appeared a little nervous. “Hey there. What’s your name small fry?” Flashing what she hoped would be a calming smile towards the young girl.

 

Her bright hazel eyes looked up at Becky before staring a hole into the ground as she spoke. “Elizabeth. But my mom calls me Lizzie.”

 

“I like it. Would you want to show me what you learned tonight Lizzie?” Trying her best to be encouraging and dull her sharp edges for this girl. Automatically wanting to shield the girl away from the harsh reality of who she really was.

 

It was an unsettling thing for Becky to see someone like Lizzie look up to her. On no level did she believe that she should be a role model for anyone. Let alone someone as young and innocent as her. Honestly, she was a little amazed that anyone could still think so highly of her and selfishly she kind of wanted to keep it that way. On some level it was easier to be despised since no one expected anything of you.

 

Now that Becky had a job here there were expectations of her once again and that terrified her.

 

She watched as Lizzie went through some of the drills and combos that they had worked on during class, and Becky felt an emotion that had been foreign to her for some time. Real pride at something she had done.

 

“That was really good. Let me show you one thing though.”

 

Becky spent the next few minutes helping Lizzie smooth out a few kinks in her technique. Giving her advice that Finlay had instilled in her years ago.

 

“Perfect. That’s exactly how you do it. I got to go end class now. Keep practicing and you can show me how much you’ve improved next class.”

 

Lizzie’s young face brightened at the words. “I will! You’ll see. Thanks a lot Ms. Lynch. I won’t let you down.”

 

Becky’s smile faltered just a tad. Trying not to let how much the girl’s words affected her show. “I’m sure you won’t.” Offering her fist out for the girl to bump. “And you can call me Becky.”

 

She got up and started to walk away from the girl so that she could officially end the class.

 

Her eyes felt drawn by some force towards the window to the office above. There standing in the window with her arms crossed staring down at Becky was Charlotte. It was hard to tell but for just a second Becky could swear that Charlotte had been looking at her with something close to respect. But it was gone so quickly she could have imagined it.

 

They locked eyes for a few seconds before Charlotte tilted her head ever so slightly before turning on her heel and lowering the blinds.

 

Becky smirked and tried her best to put the blonde to the back of her mind. Which was easier said than done.

 

Shaking her head Becky stepped to the front and ignored the way Ruby was looking at her. “It’s funny. I think that was the first nice thing I’ve seen you do since you’ve been here.”

 

Becky sneered at Ruby, but it lacked the normal rancor she had. “Don’t mention it. Seriously don’t mention it ever again.”

 

Ruby just stopped herself from laughing at the Irish woman’s tough act. “Whatever you say Irish.”

 

\----------

**Charlotte**

 

“Again.” Ruby directed.

 

Charlotte looked on the proceedings with a dispassionate stare from her spot in her office.

 

Taking a tiny break to relax from the endless list of tasks that only seemed to get longer as she checked more off.

 

Keen eyes analyzing the way Becky moved in the light drills she and Ruby were engaged in down in the gym.

 

In particular watching Becky maintain an orthodox stance, left leg out in front throughout entire time she observed.

 

It made sense that she would want to keep her right leg farther away from the opponent after the injury. Obvious to anyone who watched her move in the ring for more than a few minutes that the former champion didn’t trust her knee anymore and that it still gave her problems.

 

She did a good job of hiding it, but an experienced eye could see the hesitation and unnatural flow to her lateral movement.

 

Charlotte had been around plenty of athletes and had seen the devastating mental aftermath of an injury. In particular with injuries to the knee.

 

Even once it healed the memories could create bad habits and Charlotte saw that happening in front of her eyes.

 

Her cool eyes watched for another minute as the same story played out. Becky maintaining an orthodox stance and getting out worked by Ruby’s footwork. Her hesitation to switch stances hurting her ability to react to the opponent’s angles and allowing herself to be tagged with shots that she could have avoided.

 

Unable to watch anymore of this without chiming in Charlotte crossed her arms over her freshly pressed white button up and strutted farther into the gym, “You do know that such a thing as Southpaw exists. Right?”

 

Becky took her eyes off Ruby for a second to glare at the blonde. Her ego still smarting from how the woman showed her up in the ring.

 

Said ego taking another shot when a speedy jab from Ruby landed on Becky’s cheek and caused her to stumble back into the ropes, “Never take your eyes off your opponent while you’re in the ring.”

 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow when Becky remained silent. She could tell that internally she was fuming by the sort of basic novice advice you would tell someone in their first boxing practice ever but was impressed that she held the normal spew of vitriol back.

 

“Take a minute Becky. I have to talk to Ruby real quick.”

 

“It’s your gym. Do what you want.” The redhead turning towards the corner and pulling up a bottle of water.

 

Charlotte sighed but had to admit that was about as civil as she could have expected Becky to act after their last interaction.

 

“What you need?” Ruby asked as she bent beneath the ring ropes and hopped down to the floor.

 

“Spar with her for a few minutes. Make her circle to her left and lead her into leg kicks. Keep hitting it until she switches stances.”

 

Ruby looked at Charlotte in confusion “If you insist.” Turning around and getting back into the ring.

 

“Ruby,” Charlotte calmly recaptured her attention, “Don’t go easy on her.”

 

A nod in confirmation proceeded Ruby calling out to Becky, “Enough drilling for now, you up for a little sparring session Irish?”

 

Becky had been glancing sideways at Charlotte since she entered the room. Bristling with competitive fire at the unspoken challenge in Ruby’s invitation. Puffing her chest out and putting on her best act with the new audience. “Always up for a good spar. Who are you bringing in?”

 

Charlotte was worried that her eyes would get stuck in the top of her head from how often she found herself rolling them at Becky’s constant state of perpetual agitation personified.

 

Ruby didn’t look amused at the verbal jab. Tapping her gloves together, “Cute. Get your guard up Irish.” Her temper had been seriously tested by the woman throughout their sessions together and she looked forward to being able to touch her up a bit.

 

The heavily tattooed woman flicked out a jab before Becky could open her mouth again. Getting her attention and setting the pace and intensity of the sparring off the bat.

 

Becky wasn’t one to back off when someone came at her a little harder during training. Biting down on her mouthpiece and meeting Ruby head on.

 

Charlotte crossed her arms and watched the two clash. Just as expected Becky dropped right back into her orthodox stance and Ruby followed her advice to a tee. Cutting off the ring and forcing the Irish woman to circle to her left.

 

She winced at the loud thump that filled the room when Ruby landed a heavy kick on Becky’s left lead leg. The force from the kick amplified from Becky’s own momentum, effectively running herself into Ruby’s leg.

 

The same story played itself out for the next few minutes. Becky’s frustration growing with every kick Ruby landed. Large welts already developing up and down the outside of her left leg.

 

Charlotte could see that she was already stepping a little gingerly. Her movement becoming more and more sloppy as she refused to switch stances.

 

A tiny but unignorable measure of disappointment filling her chest at every kick Ruby landed.

 

Becky was unable to hide a grimace after the latest kick. Growling under her breath as her left leg began to drag like a dead weight.

 

“ENOUGH!” Charlotte yelled. Four minutes of watching Becky make the same mistake over and over was more than enough. “Ruby take five.”

 

Ruby nodded at the implied command and made her way over towards where Liv was hanging out on the other side of the gym. Not wanting to be near the weird energy that existed whenever Charlotte and Becky interacted.

 

Charlotte uncrossed her arms and sighed. Gracefully entering the ring and staring at the other occupant. “There a reason why you let Ruby chew up your leg like that?”

 

Becky avoided looking at Charlotte. Her lips wrapped around a water bottle as she retreated to the corner farthest from the other woman. Blatantly ignoring her question and remaining silent.

 

The only thing stopping Charlotte from giving in to her frustration was knowing that Becky was acting this way on purpose. Probably still upset after their last real interaction.

 

Truth be told she was too. She still wondered what had happened after the woman had left the gym that day. Remembering seeing her sneak back into the gym after disappearing for a few hours. She hadn’t pressed since it didn’t seem like the woman had fallen off the wagon. Her knee clearly bothering her but otherwise not displaying any overt signs of drunkenness.

 

Even though her father brought her in, Charlotte felt responsible for making sure his charity wasn’t thrown away by this woman’s recklessness. “I’ve watched your old fights.” Continuing when she saw Becky tilt her head and briefly look in her direction before taking another long sip from her water, “If I’d known how much you regressed, I would have made my father throw you out of here the second you came in through those doors.”

 

Charlotte could tell that got through. “Excuse me.” Becky’s voice low and dangerous as she dropped the water bottle over the ropes to the floor.

 

Standing her ground Charlotte doubled down. “You’ve regressed. You never were the best on your feet, but you knew enough to switch your stance and keep your opponent off balance.”

 

Becky scoffed and looked away. Her irritation at the blonde visibly growing. “Do you ever get off your high horse? You land one lucky punch and now you think you know more that me. I’ve had gold around my waist sweetie, so you can just fuck right off.”

 

Charlotte eye twitched at the flippant and demeaning way Becky addressed her. Forcing herself to stay calm since Becky clearly wouldn’t hold herself in check. “Even someone who knew nothing about fighting could see that you don’t trust your knee.”

 

Becky glared at her. The comment hitting the nerve underneath it all.

 

“You won’t last a minute against a decent opponent. They will see that weakness and exploit it worse than Ruby did just now.”

 

Becky was fuming at how accurate Charlotte’s words were but kept her mouth shut. Her confidence around the other woman failing her since getting embarrassingly dropped by the blonde while she wore a business outfit.

 

Charlotte tried a different tactic; seeing that she clearly wasn’t getting through this way. “Maybe you should give up now. Save yourself the pain of failing in front of millions again, just because you can’t get out of your own way.”

 

Charlotte could see Becky muttering something under her breath but couldn’t make out the words.

 

Becky was upset and wanted nothing more than to get another shot at wiping the holier than thou mask off her all too symmetrical and perfect looking face.

 

Her pride wouldn’t allow her to let Charlotte drive her to the point where she nearly threw every step of progress away. She couldn’t allow the blonde to have that power over her head.

 

Any further interaction was cut off when front door opened, and her father Ric walked in. Back from his business trip.

 

Charlotte glanced his way and caught his eyes. Nodding towards the man as she moved to get out of the ring. “Ruby will be back soon.” Taking several steps away from the silently brooding woman before calling over her shoulder, “Figure your shit out.”

 

\----------

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

Charlotte eyes felt the strain of hours of work without any real break but she found it hard to stop. Rubbing circles into her temple as she tried to deal with everything the business threw her way the best she could. Not wanting her father to be burdened by a financially failing gym and see how bad things were.

 

She was startled from her thoughts when a soft but insistent knock sounded from her door. “Come in.” Charlotte called out. Wondering who would possibly still be at the gym at this late of an hour. The clock on her desk showing that it was well past eight on a Friday night.

 

Pushing the door open Bayley stuck her head around the corner with an apologetic smile. “I got writing in the men’s locker room and lost track of time, is everyone gone?” she asked,

 

“I would assume Ms. Lynch is probably brooding in her room, but beyond that; everyone left over an hour ago.” Charlotte looked back down at the work in front of her and shook her head. “Wait… Did you say men’s locker room? Why on earth were you writing in there?”

 

Bayley shrugged “I have yet to see a male fighter here.”

 

Charlotte couldn’t really say anything to that. “Touche. What can I do for you Bayley? I’m assuming you didn’t come in here just to say hey.”

 

Stepping into the room Bayley nodded at the chair in front of Charlotte’s desk, receiving an answering nod she sat. It was her habit to slouch in chairs but seeing the rigidly upright way Flair held herself Bayley felt she had to sit a bit straighter. Coughing once to cover this Bayley got out her recorder and set it on the desk in between them.

 

Immediately Charlotte understood the implication and motioned for Bayley to continue. “Ask away.” Knowing that she had to do her best to put on a good front for the business.

 

Bayley put on her professional mask of a friendly but unreadable smile and asked: “So you’ve had Becky Lynch in house for a few weeks now. How has the experience been? And have you two discussed a formal contract yet?”

 

Charlotte made sure to gather her thoughts before she replied. Well aware that anything said could come back to bite her and the gym in the ass. “It’s been an interesting few weeks but I’m confident Ms. Lynch has been keeping herself on the right path. As for your second question; No. At least not in terms of her becoming an active fighter again. Though that is obviously on the table in the future.”

 

Bayley kept it from her face but the answer surprised her. Not so much it’s content, it was standard athlete/coach speak. But HOW it was being said, it was as though Charlotte had been working these answers for days and was now delivering them as lines. Still, she’d gotten an answer.

 

“Next question, how is Becky coming along back in the ring? I know what I’ve seen, but I’d like your perspective not only as the gym owner but a former fighter yourself?”

 

Charlotte had to bite her tongue as the first thoughts that came to her would likely come across poorly for Becky to the audience who read it. “She’s progressing as you would expect. The knee injury was a massive blow and she hadn’t been taking the best care of herself as is well documented. I still expect her to eventually make a full recovery physically. Mentally is where she will struggle. It’s not easy coming back from an injury like that.”

 

It was harder to keep the frown from her face this time as she heard Charlotte’s mechanical delivery, but Bayley managed. Adjusting her position in the chair she asked: “Hypothetically, if Becky were to get back into fighting shape and IF you were to sign her would you have any future opponents in mind?”

 

“I’m not looking that far ahead right now. I’m going to take Lynch along one step at a time and we will make that decision when the time comes.” Charlotte set her hands on the table in front of her and leaned back into her chair. Tired, but determined to not say anything that could put a target on her back or Lynch’s for that matter, before she was ready.

 

Sighing, Bayley reached forward and turned off the recorder. She’d been interviewing people long enough to know the difference between coach speak and stonewalling. She didn’t sense that Charlotte was being deliberately opaque, it was more likely she was just walking through a minefield of her own making.

 

Charlotte let out a deep sigh that she had made it through without any missteps. Looking over at Bayley and giving her a small relieved smile. “Got what you needed already?”

 

Bayley debated internally for a moment before deciding to be honest...ish. “Is something bothering you Charlotte?” she asked.

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes and immediately went on the defensive. “Nothing’s bothering me.” Her foot tapping against the floor as she rocked back in the chair.

 

“I see…” Bayley said in a ‘I don’t believe but am not going to call you a liar to your face because I like you’ tone. It was a lot to ask of two syllables, but she’d spent enough time around Sasha Banks to learn to make it work.

 

Charlotte sighed at Bayley’s tone. Understanding that she wasn’t getting away with her act right now. “If we are going to actually talk I’m going to need a beer. You want one? Ruby has some hidden around so that Becky can’t find it.” Offering the beer as an apology for her obviously unsatisfactory answers.

 

Bayley gave a fleeting thought to the question of if this actually fit under ‘journalistic ethics’ but decided it wasn’t a big deal if she wasn’t working. Putting a smile on her face she nodded and said “una cerveza por favor!”

 

Charlotte came back into her office with a six pack of Sam Adams Boston Lager. Appropriate given the scenario. She popped the top off of one and placed it carefully down onto a makeshift coaster. Pulling over a magazine to avoid any stains on her desk before opening one up for herself and taking a long swig from the neck. “You ever found yourself trapped with someone that constantly annoys you and makes you want to strangle them?”

 

Bayley didn’t answer right away as she was still drinking from her beer.This went on for a few more seconds before she finally lowered the bottle with a gasp for air. Shaking her head quickly she looked over at Charlotte and said: “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

 

Charlotte took another gulp from her beer and set it down before she drank the whole thing before they even started. Internally debating exactly how honest she should be. “Becky fucking Lynch is one of the most childish and frustrating people I have ever had to be around and I didn’t even get a say in it. I love my dad but he basically has laid this wreck at my feet and said figure it out. Add on top of that the fact that he essentially bet the future of this gym on a loose cannon and you can see why I am in a constant state of bother.” Finishing her rant by taking another sip of the hoppy beer and staring out the window.

 

Bayley couldn’t help but she let out a sardonic bark of laughter at this that quickly devolved into a fit of the giggles.

 

Charlotte looked at Bayley with an exaggeratedly annoyed look. Trying her best to show that she was being serious but quickly failing and grimly smiling as the brunette continued to laugh. “I’m glad my suffering gives you some joy.”

 

Holding up a hand as she regained some measure of composure Bayley managed to say: “I’m sorry...I’m sorry it’s just…” here she has to stop to wipe a tear from her eye “...It’s just, remember what I told you about Sasha and I?”

 

Charlotte finished her beer and opened the next. Raising a perfectly maintained eyebrow at the other woman. “Nothing is going on between us though. I fail to see the comparison.” Stubbornly refusing to personally acknowledge what Bayley was hinting at.

 

Bayley raised her eyebrows until they were in danger of meeting her hairline but just said: “Well, in any case you could be describing Sasha with words like childish and frustrating.”

 

Charlotte felt herself relax at Bayley’s words but not really knowing why. The weight in her chest lightening as she responded easily, “I suppose fighting does attract a certain type of personality.”

 

“Yes, I believe the technical term is ‘pain in the ass’. Though what makes it worse is they never see themselves that way do they?” Bayley laughed.

 

“Of course not. They think it’s endearing.” Snorting as she shook her head. Her fingers idly drawing tiny patterns into the condensation on the side of her beer.

 

“So I have to ask: were Ruby and Liv as high maintenance in their job interviews as they are to interview for a story because...ugh,” Bayley said before killing the remainder of her beer.

 

Charlotte chuckled at the description of her employees. “Probably more so. They’ve actually chilled out quite a bit since coming on if you’d believe it.”

 

“Yeah…” Bayley muttered as she reached for another beer and opened it on the edge of Charlotte’s desk with a slap of her palm “...they’re a real riot.”

 

“That’s certainly one way to describe them. How has your story been going by the way? I’m sure Lynch has been her normal charming self for you as well.” Charlotte said. Honestly interested in how the piece was coming since it could have such an effect on the gym.

 

“I feel like I didn’t quite know what I was getting into when I came here to do it. I thought it might be a quick blog post or maybe a few and an interview. Now? I feel like I’m filing a major feature story. But it’s been a lot of fun and a new challenge, I think with a bit of polish I could get the first part out real soon. And to answer your question she’s been a delightful headache,” Bayley finished with a grin. She took another long pull off her beer before adding: “And so have you!”

 

Charlotte was smiling along with Bayley until the last part. “Please. Don’t compare me and her. I have an excuse for being difficult, she just is naturally.”

 

“In a way that makes it more impressive, you’re doing through hard work and effort what she just does on talent,” Bayley teased as she finished her second beer. Second, in ‘not enough’ minutes she’d realize later.

 

The beer in her hand was a useful tool to buy Charlotte time. Taking a long drink before setting it down and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Point taken. I know I’m being difficult, but I’m in a horrible position. Right now this gym is mostly reliant on the charity of its legacy, and I can’t afford to make any mistakes right now. Calling you here was a massive gamble for me.”

 

Bayley frowned at this. She thought for a moment before asking: “How so? I’m nobody.”

 

Charlotte looked at her incredulously, “Do you really not know?” Staring at Bayley in disbelief and chuckling while she finished her beer. “A story on Becky Lynch returning from disgrace will gain traction quickly. People love watching a trainwreck just as much as they love a good comeback and Lynch checks both boxes. For better or worse I’ve tied this gym’s reputation to hers.” Opening up another beer and setting it down in front of herself. “Your article will bring more eyes on her and the gym. I don’t have any guarantees she won’t fold under the pressure and leave me and my father in the shit.”

 

“I’m still curious though, and I’ve been meaning to ask for awhile...why me? I was just coming off getting embarrassed in front of the whole MMA community. There would definitely have been other journalists who would have jumped at this,” Bayley pressed.

 

Charlotte picked at the label of the beer. Scraping away tiny bits of the paper that had been peeling away. “Maybe my father isn’t the only one who likes giving out second chances.” Taking a long sip from her beer before continuing. “I also thought you might be a little desperate and willing to keep this secret for a while. Speaking of, when are you releasing something?”

 

Bayley thought about resenting the ‘desperate’ comment but decided that the truth was the truth. Taking a moment to think she said: “Well I need some more quotes, REAL, quotes from you but then I feel like I could have it done tonight. Might even be able to post later.”

 

It may be just the beer, but Charlotte sighed and relented. “Fine. I’ll play ball. What do you need from me. No more Belichick-isms, I promise.”

 

“You would look fab in the hoody…” Bayley teased before turning her recorder back on “...you’ve had Becky Lynch around for a few weeks. Has that experience been challenging? Rewarding? Stressful? Some combination of them? And how advanced are you internal discussions about bringing her on as a fighter?”

 

Charlotte chucked under her breath but regained her composure and answered. “Would you hate me if I said all of the above? Lynch is having to work her way back up from the bottom. That’s not easy and she can be more of a handful that I like.” Taking a quick sip from her beer as she closed her eyes and was reminded of all the ways Becky Lynch had tested her patience so far. She quickly changed the subject. “As for your other question; I haven’t yet broached the subject with her and I won’t until I see her physically show some more positive signs that her knee is able to handle a full training camp.”

 

Bayley pounced on this and asked: “So her knee is still not 100%?”

 

“Not as of yet. Our head trainer Liv was finally able to get her on a more regimented rehab schedule and has assured me that Lynch had been progressing better than she anticipated.” Taking another sip from her beer before adding, “Maybe if she hadn’t fought me so hard on the rehab she would be a little closer to normal by now.” Letting a little of her bitterness at Becky’s hardhead come out. Uncaring if the Irish woman would read it at present moment.

 

Bayley reached for another beer, looked up at Charlotte, and on receiving a nod opened it on the edge of the other woman’s desk. Settling back in she thought for a moment and asked: “Is the injury itself healed? Is this issue mostly mental or is there still structural damage?”

 

“Liv assures me that the injury is healed, but the muscles around it atrophied from her not using them and not following through on her rehab after the surgery originally. Even though she will probably tell you no, I’m sure that she isn’t mentally ready right now for anything close to a real fight.”

 

“You were a fighter, give me your honest assessment, how far is she from being the same woman who once dominated the bantamweight division?”

 

Charlotte took a moment to think about her answer. Turning the bottle around as a way to kill time. “If you asked me today I would have to say I don’t know if she will ever get back there. Banks is on another level right now and from what I’ve seen of Lynch here she would have a long road to get competitive and last a round.”

 

Bayley grinned as she said: “I didn’t bring up Sasha.”

 

Charlotte shrugged. “The only way to get to the top right now is through Sasha. Right now, I don’t want to see that fight. I don’t want to see Becky go in there and get slaughtered before she’s ready. If she comes back it will be slowly against an opponent that isn’t on Banks’ level.”

 

Sitting a bit straighter Bayley asked the next, and hardest, question: “Any comment on the rumors that your father’s gym is currently in the process of selling a near controlling stake to Bob Orton and his chain?”

 

The question burned through any buzz she had. “The only comment I will give is that my father started this gym and as long as I am here this gym will continue to run and operate under my control.” Making it clear that she wouldn’t give anything more. Her own mind running at high speed, wondering how the information had gotten out.

 

She knew it wasn’t her so that left only one other source. Charlotte made a quick mental note to give Orton a call sometime in the very early morning.

 

Seeing some internal debate raging in the other woman Bayley said: “I’m a VERY good reporter Charlotte.” But, not wanting to leave things on that note she added: “Don’t worry, you didn’t give me enough to make it worth including at this point.”

 

Charlotte felt relieved, but still couldn’t help wondering how Bayley had gotten the information. “Small graces I suppose. Maybe I should stop underestimating you.” Trying to joke with the reporter to hide how shook she was.

 

Taking pity on the woman whom Bayley was beginning to see as a friend, despite the need for professional detachment, she reached out and turned off her recorder. Putting it back in her bag she said: “You can unclench now and, for what it’s worth, I hope you keep the gym.”

 

As soon as the recorder turned off Charlotte felt herself relax and lean back into her seat. She looked up at the ceiling and then looked around the walls. Lined with old fight posters and displaying the history of this gym with just a brief look. Her gaze settling on an old picture of Reid and Ric ringside after a fight. “Thanks… It means a lot.”

 

Grabbing her bag and slinging it around her shoulders as she stood Bayley was pleased by how steady on her feet she was. Turning to look back at Charlotte she said: “I owe you for the beers, and I think I’ll head back to my hotel and finish this up. I’ll text you when I post it.” with that she left.

 

Charlotte continued to sit in her office for another few minutes. The room illuminated by just a single lamp.

 

Finally she got back to her feet and swiftly chucked the finished beers into the recycling bin next to her desk. Not wanting to leave them lying around for herself to clean come morning.  
She packed up the rest of her things and flicked the light off. Ready to go home and try to get some sleep before having to come back and deal with whatever comes tomorrow.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley was still riding the rush she always got when she posted a new story. It didn’t matter how big or small the pieces was, she still got a thrill from sending it out into the world. It was even more special today because MMAyley had been doing nothing but reposting other site’s reporting recently. She’d simply been too busy in Boston to do much writing.

 

Checking her phone she decided that she’d earned a little treat that evening. Grabbing her jacket she decided she’d indulge herself in a little tourist time. It was funny, she’s been in Boston this whole time but she hadn’t actually seen any of the sights. Hell, maybe she’d go to Cheers.

 

In the event, she took one look at the line to get into the famous bar and decided it wasn’t worth it. She ended up having a plate of oysters in a small pub just off Boston Common. Oysters, and a few beers. Because of these, her head was pleasantly buzzing as she waited on the sidewalk for her rideshare. She was humming happily and bouncing her on her toes when she felt her phone buzz.

 

She debated for a second about looking at the message, she was having a good evening and she didn’t really feel like talking with anyone. But, she reasoned, it might be work related and she couldn’t really afford to turn anything down at the moment.

 

It took her longer than it usually would to dig her phone out of her pocket, the beers again. To her surprise, she saw that the message was from Sasha. Unlocking the screen she squinted down at the phone.

 

“Hey,” was all the message said.

 

“Hey!” Bayley sent back, smiling to herself. She watched as her phone informed her that Sasha was writing her response.

 

“So how’s Boston?” Sasha asked.

 

“It’s a lot of fun, I almost went to Cheers tonight but it was crazy busy,” Bayley responded enthusiastically, momentarily forgetting that she and Sasha had been arguing. She was reminded of the fact a moment later.

 

“Yeah, when did you find time from hanging out with your new best friend Becky FUCKING Lynch!”

 

Bayley physically recoiled as she read this message. But long practice had prepared her for Sasha’s moods. Her friend’s first reaction to anything was almost invariably her worst one, given time Sasha almost always calmed down and would feel bad about how she’d first acted. Almost always.

 

“I guess you read the story I posted?” Bayley sent back as she took a deep breath to calm her own anger. It never worked for her to try and meet Sasha head on if she did the fight would turn volcanic and linger for days.

 

“Fuck you,”

 

Having to close her eyes and take a few more cleansing breaths Bayley took a moment before sending: “Is there something wrong with me doing my job?”

 

“Screw you Bayley, you know what you did!”

 

“In a few hours when you’ve calmed down you’ll realize how childish you’re acting, when that happens you can text me and apologize and I might talk with you. Until then, good night,” Bayley sent back angrily. Her good mood was entirely gone now.

 

“Fighters!” she grumbled to herself in exasperation.

 

\----------

**Sasha**

 

Sasha threw her phone at the wall hard enough that heard a cracking sound as it hit. Of course this, and subsequent crunching as it hit the floor just fed into her frustration. Clenching her fist she glared around her cavernous living room. She wanted to break something so badly at the moment that she seized one of her old fight posters off the wall and flung it with all her might.

 

The frame landed with a satisfying sound of breaking glass.

 

How DARE Bayley do this to her? If it wasn’t for Sasha, Bayley would be a nobody typing away on some pissant little blog. Shit, she was still a nobody. She owed everything to Sasha and now she fucking runs off to suck up to Becky Lynch?

 

On a deeper level, Sasha was aware that she was being beyond childish. She knew she’d done more than enough to push Bayley away over their relationship and yet her friend had never given up on her. But knowing how petty and jealous she was being just made Sasha even angrier.

 

She was the fucking boss, she didn’t get jealous. People were jealous of her!

 

Finding her anger had flared up again Sasha seized a vase of flowers off her counter and flung it at the place where the poster had landed. Then she kicked a stool so hard that it knocked over the entire row. Still fuming, she looked around for something else to break but then her eyes fell on her liquor cabinet.

 

Stomping over to it she flung the door open with enough force that it broke from one of its hinges. She didn’t care. Yanking a bottle of Courvoisier out of the rack she opened it and drank directly from the bottle. One second passed and then another, and then another. When she finally had to come up for air she slammed the bottle down on the counter.

 

Her anger not diminished in the slightest, Sasha squeezed her eyes shut. Now she was angry at herself for the tears she felt forming there. This hadn’t been how things were supposed to work out!

 

“Baby?” a voice suddenly asked from behind Sasha.

 

Spinning with a ferocious glare on her face, the bottle once again in her hand, Sasha found herself looking at Zelina. The woman who was, officially at least, her girlfriend. The woman who walked down red carpets with her, who she had her arm around in front of cameras, and who she let pleasure her.

 

And a woman with whom, Sasha suddenly knew to a certainty, she could never discuss what she was feeling.

 

Feeling tears again Sasha gave an inarticulate snarl and took another long drink from her bottle. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand she threw bottle aside as she continued to look at Zelina.

 

Sasha still felt like hitting something but she wouldn’t. There was something else she could do to distract herself.

 

\----------

 

A week later Sasha was standing in the tunnel that would lead out to the octagon in Metro Radio Arena. She’d landed in London four days before and had spent the ensuing time chafing at the draconian restrictions Bobby had placed her under. She’d been confined to her hotel room when she wasn’t training and been under a strict 9 pm curfew.

 

Sasha thought that, now that they were so close to the fight, she should have been allowed to rest and relax. Bobby hadn’t, and he was a very hard man to argue with. Deep down, Sasha had to admit that he was probably right. Her version of ‘relaxing’ wasn’t often that relaxing. But she would never admit this aloud.

 

“What’s her combo?” Lashley asked her, for the hundredth time that day.

 

Sasha rolled her eyes and responded mechanically: “Jab, jab, hook, and knee.”

 

“And what direction is she going to try to work you?”

 

“To my left,” Sasha said, again sounding bored.

 

This was part of their pre-fight ritual and it had stood her in good stead in the past. But the truth was, it just wasn’t necessary here. Sasha knew that she could beat Paige at 25%. She knew that Paige knew this as well. In fact, Sasha was pretty sure Bobby was the only person who didn’t know this.

 

“Relax big man, I got this,” Sasha said breezily. A moment later her eyes widened as Lashley took her by the shoulders.

 

“You DON’T got this? Do you understand? You don’t got SHIT until your opponent is down and stays down!” her trainer insisted with narrowed eyes. For one instant, Sasha was her old self. She was the wide-eyed nervous girl who’d peppered him with hundreds of questions before each fight. Not because she didn’t know the answers, but because she wanted his reassurance. But almost as soon as this moment started, it ended. She was the boss once again.

 

Shrugging angrily out of his grip she snapped at Lashley: “I said fucking relax, BOBBY”. She turned to step through the curtain, where she could hear the crowd roaring before she stopped. It was on the tip of her tongue to turn and apologize. It was what Bayley would have told her to do. But this thought of Bayley simply made her angrier. Narrowing her eyes she looked back over her shoulder and said coldly: “Don’t forget you work for ME.”

 

Without waiting for his response she stepped through the curtain.

 

Her music was blaring as she held her arms out, embracing the whole arena. The crowd was almost universally hostile, this was Paige’s home turf, but she didn’t care. In fact, she liked things this way. Once she’d made it about halfway to the octagon she stopped and hit her ‘boss pose’ to a thunderous chorus of boos.

 

When she finally reached the ring she ascended two of the steps that led up to it before turning around. Holding her hands up to display her ‘legit boss’ rings she danced there for a moment before removing them and her ‘boss’ sunglasses and flinging them carelessly into the crowd. The crowd continued its hatred throughout.

 

When she finally did turn to face the cage she found Paige glaring at her. The British woman looked indignant and eager at the same time. Well, that wouldn’t do at all, Sasha thought. Rather than step into the cage Sasha hopped down off the steps and began to prance around the perimeter of the octagon. As she went she continued to wave away the haters with occasional stops to pose and flip her hair.

 

“Oi! Get your fucking ass in here?” Paige shouted down at her from inside the cage when Sasha reached the far side of the octagon. She could barely make herself heard over the sound of the booing. Knowing that Paige wouldn’t hear her response Sasha just waved her fingers dismissively at Paige and struck a few more poses.

 

\----------

**Bayley**

 

Sitting cross-legged on her hotel bed in Boston Bayley couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

 

“What the hell are you doing Sasha?” she breathed as she watched her friend, if Sasha still was her friend, making an ass of herself in front of an international audience.

 

She continued to watch as though she were seeing a slow motion car wreck. Sasha was sashaying around the octagon now, wiggling her fingers at the furious crowd. When she reached the tables where the media were watching she sat casually on one and gave the man sitting there a wink and an air kiss.

 

At this point, the crowd was getting so nasty that Bayley was beginning to wonder if Sasha was safe. Fortunately, her trainer, Bobby Lashley, hurried over and pointed an insistent finger at the ring steps. To Bayley’s surprise, she could see Sasha having a heated but short argument with the man before she finally made her way into the cage. As she did she flicked away the haters once more before finally turning her attention onto her opponent.

 

Letting out an anxious sigh Bayley settled back in for the fight.

 

\----------

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha had visibly let her attention wander while the official had briefed Paige and herself. She knew the rules, and it didn’t matter much anyway.

 

“Touch gloves ladies,” the official said. Paige, glowering, nevertheless extended her fist. Sasha, looking down at it bemusedly before turning very slowly and strutting toward her corner. She answered the loud booing that greeted this with a casual wave. When she reached her corner she looked expectantly down at Lashley. To her annoyance, he just stared at her.

 

“What are you doing Sasha?” he asked. His tone wasn’t angry or frustrated, but sad. Sasha glared at him.

 

“Give me my fucking mouth guard,” she snapped at him. He continued to look at her gravely before he complied. Turning back around Sasha pounded her fists together and waited for the bell.

 

It rang.

 

Ordinarily, it was Sasha’s practice to circle an opponent at the beginning of a fight. Paige would know this too, so Sasha didn’t. She advanced brazenly toward Paige showing no fear. Paige’s eyes widened briefly at this but she recovered quickly and marched forward to meet Sasha.

 

Paige’s first punch came from far to Sasha’s left and was easily avoided. Sasha dodged the second just as easily. After ducking under the third Sasha came up fast and delivered a stinging open slap across Paige’s face that sent the British woman staggering.

 

Sasha knew that she wouldn’t be able to make herself understood around her mouthguard so she didn’t speak as Paige straightened. Instead, she gave the woman a leer before she raised a middle finger to her opponent. Paige’s eyes flashed and she attacked.

 

Sasha grinned.

 

\----------

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley couldn't believe what she was watching.

 

She’d intended to have her computer open and to be making a start on her story about the fight as it proceeded. She found she couldn't tear her eyes from the screen. Not because of the quality of the fight, which was abysmal. But because she was seeing something she’d never seen before in a professional fight.

 

Sasha wasn’t fighting, she was playing.

 

Bayley could see it. Everyone watching could see it. She had to believe that it was readily apparent to the crowd at the event. And given all these things, she couldn’t imagine how Paige was feeling.

 

The fighter from Britain was talented, Bayley had no doubt of this, but she was well out of her depth here. Sasha was the bantamweight champion of the world, Paige was an up and comer. In a few years, this might have been a legitimate fight. As it was, it was an execution.

 

But an execution that Sasha seemed to have no intention of hurrying.

 

Bayley watched as Sasha easily avoided several strikes from Paige and then folded the other woman over with a vicious kick to the midsection. Paige did her best to retreat but Sasha shot her leg out from under her and drove her down to the mat. But rather than attempt to mount Paige, submit her, or even control her Sasha simply put a palm on the other woman’s face and used it as leverage to post herself up off the mat.

 

Bayley was looking in horrified fascination when she was started by her phone buzzing beside her. Automatically she reached for it and saw that it was a text message from Mojo.

 

 _“What the hell are we watching?”_ it read. Bayley had to re-read this several times to make the words register. She was that stunned.

 

 _“I have no idea,”_ she sent back.

 

_“What is Banks thinking? Have you spoken to her?”_

 

 _“No, not recently,”_ Bayley sent back. This was literally true, Sasha hadn’t even texted again after their exchange about Bayley’s Becky story. This didn’t mean Sasha hadn’t been on Bayley’s mind but Mo didn’t need to know that.

 

_“You want to come on to talk about this tomorrow?”_

 

Bayley bit her lip. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have thoughts about what was happening on her screen. She had many of them. But none of them were complimentary to Sasha and, unreasonably, Bayley still shrunk from the idea of hurting her friend’s feelings. This thought annoyed her though, why was she working so hard to placate Sasha?

 _“I’ll get back to you,”_ was all she sent back as Sasha revealed her latest stunt.

 

\----------

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha was grinning as she had Paige in position for a textbook rear naked choke. But she didn’t apply it. Instead, she used one hand to muss the other woman’s hair before shoving her away.

 

By this point in the fight, the crowd was so angry that it was beyond shouting. Sasha had come in here and wasn’t even taking their hometown girl seriously She was just toying with Paige and she was enjoying herself.

 

For the fourth or fifth time in the fight, Sasha let Paige out of a situation in which she could easily have won the fight. Taking a few steps back she made sure that Paige was looking at her before she once again hit her boss pose.

 

Paige was almost weeping in frustration at this point. She was a proud woman who was not only being beaten but being beaten without any apparent effort. No matter what she did she couldn’t seem to get at Sasha. And when she tried to go on the defensive Sasha tore through her guard contemptuously. Only the ringing of the bell saved her from more humiliation in the third round.

 

Making her way back to her corner with a grin on her face Sasha took her seat and waited. There wasn’t really any need to tend to her, she hadn’t taken any real damage. She didn’t receive any kind of advice either. Quite apart from not needing it, Lashley seemed to have washed his hands of the proceedings.

 

This darkened Sasha’s mood as she watched her trainer stand off to one side, with a disappointed look on his face. Lashley had been her trainer and, if she was honest, her mentor for a long time. His lack of support was hurting her more than she would ever admit, especially because she thought she’d earned it. This, on top of her recent fall out with Bayley, suddenly tuned Sasha’s playfulness into a rage.

 

When the referee called them out of their corners Sasha didn’t waste any time. Paige opened the round with an attempt to shoot Sasha’s legs. But the British woman seemed to be moving oh so slowly. Sasha easily avoided the attack and when Paige regained her feet Sasha uncorked her offense.

 

What followed was not a competitive event, it was a beating. Sasha was widely considered one of the best pure strikers in the MMA world. She rained punches, kicks, elbows, forearms, and knees down on Paige in a withering barrage of pain. By the time she’d finished the British woman was only barely cognizant of where she was. A moment later Sasha’s lightning fast left roundhouse kick flashed up and collided with meteoric force against the side of Paige’s face.

 

Unconsciousness was instant. Concussion? Inevitable.

 

When the referee finally called for the bell Sasha waited, stewing angrily but doing her best to appear bored. It was only when Brawl For All’s in-ring interviewer, Goose Cook, approached her that she snapped from her reverie.

 

“Sasha, congrats on a truly dominant win tonight. I have to ask the question that will be on everyone’s minds, what do you think of the reaction you’re getting from this sold-out crowd and could you comment on some of your tactics tonight?”

 

Sasha schooled her features into a sweet smile as she answered: “Yeah, it was nice to make a trip to London. It’s too bad I had to waste my time here tonight but oh well, the clubs are still open. As for my ‘tactics’ I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

 

Goose’s professional mask never shifted but some of his consternation came through in his voice as he said: “Well, for example, your decision to let Paige out of several situations where it seemed like you had the fight won. There were also your decisions to taunt your opponent during the fight-”

 

Sasha cut Goose off here as she said: “You keep saying ‘fight’, what the hell are you talking about?”

 

“The fight you were just in,”

 

“I didn’t see a fight. I saw a little girl out here playing make believe that she was a fighter. So as long as she was doing that I figured I might as well have some fun too,” Sasha snapped.

 

“So, not a lot of respect for your opponent then?” Goose prompted her.

 

\----------

 

**Bayley**

 

“Oh god…” Bayley said to herself as she watched Goose ask the question.

 

Goose was undoubtedly very good at his job. He was expert at remaining professional but still making sure to ask the questions that needed to be asked in the limited time he had. It was a real skill and Bayley admired him greatly. But tonight, she found herself wishing he was a little less good at his job.

 

“I’ll give respect my ‘opponent’ when I have one, Goose! Tonight I had a little girl wasting my *bleep* time. That’s all I’ve had for a long time! When this division finally gives me someone who can fight the Boss then I’ll show them respect,” Sasha responded hotly before spinning on her heel and exiting the cage.

 

Bayley didn’t want to watch anymore. It was hard to watch someone who, at times, Bayley was convinced that she loved, doing these things. But, she was a journalist. There wouldn’t be another topic in the world of MMA tomorrow or in the coming days and weeks besides Sasha Banks. She needed to be up on it.

 

“And there goes my story,” she muttered to herself as she pulled her laptop to herself.

 

\----------

 

**Sasha**

 

A few minutes later, as Sasha was having her hands unwrapped, she was glowering as Lashley glared angrily at her.

 

“Well, that was a great use of our time,” he said tersely. Sasha didn’t answer but just looked down at the floor of the locker room. Lashley waited for a response but when he didn’t get one he asked: “Well? You got anything to say Sasha?”

 

Sasha was silent for a few moments longer before, without looking up, she said: “I don’t HAVE to say anything to you.”

 

“No, after the shit you pulled out there I think you really do HAVE to tell us what the hell you were thinking?” Lashley answered hotly.

 

Sitting back in her chair with her hands now free, Sasha smirked and said: “Well you thought wrong didn’t you.”

 

“Seriously? After everything we’ve been through you’re gonna do me like that?”

 

“Look, BOBBY, in case you forgot or something you work for ME. I don’t OWE you shit once I’ve paid you! You’re LUCKY to be able to say you train me! You’d be a fucking nobody with me!” Sasha shouted.

 

“Oh, you think what you just did out there was a favor to me? To Teddy? You think that it’s going to be good for ANY of our reputations?” Lashley asked dryly.

 

“You think I give a fuck?” Sasha demanded.

 

“No, I don’t. And I think THAT is a problem. Because the Sasha I first met DID give a fuck. She wasn’t a walking publicity stunt. She cared about being the best and STAYING the best,” Lashley answered.

 

“I AM the god damn best. And don’t act like YOU did that! MY TALENT did this! So why don’t you just shut the fuck up and get out of here before you piss me off any more than you already have!” Sasha shouted.

 

Bobby, to her frustration, didn’t shout back. He just looked very sad as he asked quietly: “What are you doing Sasha?”

 

This response, so wounding to Sasha herself, just fed her temper. First Bayley and now Bobby, no one even tried to understand her anymore. Everyone just wanted things from her. Well, she wasn’t going to take that any longer. Not from anyone.

 

Standing, Sasha shoved her trainer in the chest. In a man the size of Lashley, this didn’t have any appreciable effect but Sasha followed it up by saying: “You know, fuck you, you’re fired! Get the hell out of here!”

 

Lashley didn’t even blink at this. He folded his arms and turned to look at Teddy, who was, in fact, his employer. But before her manager could speak Sasha shouted again.

 

“Don’t look at him! I said GET THE FUCK OUT!”

 

Lashley continued to stare at Teddy who sighed, hesitated, look at Sasha and then said: “You heard the lady playa.”

 

“OK,” was all Lashley said. He didn’t sound angry or even disappointed. He just retrieved his bag and turned to walk slowly out of the room. Sasha was already regretting her rash decision but her temper was preventing her from doing what she should have. Snatching a roll of tape from her bag she flung at him, striking the wall to his right.

 

“Enjoy being a nobody again!” she snapped.

 

Without turning around Bobby said: “Best of luck Sasha, I hope you find yourself again”. Then he was gone. Fuming, mostly at herself, Sasha stood and paced angrily around the locker room. Teddy didn’t speak as she did this, which was probably wise. After a few minutes, she turned and glared at her manager.

 

“Did you get that thing for me?” she demanded.

 

“Yeah playa, it’s right here,” Teddy said as he pointed to a bag.

 

\----------

 

**Becky**

 

She didn’t know what had possessed her to watch the highlights of Sasha’s fight.

 

She didn’t want to be reminded of the woman who stole her belt and her career but couldn’t stop herself. Always a glutton for punishment it seems.

 

The highlight video was about four minutes long, but after just over a minute Becky slammed the laptop lid closed.

 

An odd assortment of emotions swirling inside of her as she watched Sasha dismantle and humiliate the younger and clearly out of her depth Paige.

 

As she watched Sasha move so smoothly and easily around the other woman Becky couldn’t help but be reminded of Charlotte’s words. Her point frustratingly clear when faced with watching an athlete in their prime dominate her opponent.

 

A new fire lit beneath her Becky looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly midnight.

 

Which meant that the gym should be completely empty and free for her to use.

 

She grabbed the bag of gym clothes she had ready by the door and sped out. Making a beeline for the stairway that led downstairs.

 

Just a few minutes later and Becky was already making her way inside the ring.

 

With just her taped fists and the silence of the gym she let herself simply stand in the ring.

 

The echoes of the crowd in her memories filling the space as she tried to remember what it felt like to feel on top of the world.

 

It felt like a lifetime ago when she had been in the same position as Sasha was right now. That sort of invincible aura that wraps you up and keeps you warm at night after proving that you are undoubtedly the best.

 

The rush that came from a victory always came with its downside.

 

It was sort of an unspoken truth amongst fighters. The reality that comes crashing back down after a fight.

 

Usually the glow from a victory lasts about a week. The calls slow down and the world moves on. Onto the next fight and your victory becomes a distant memory.

 

It’s an easy time to become depressed and a lot of fighters have a hard time handling the time away from the spotlight.

 

For however long you are in the cage it feels like the entire world is focused on you.

 

When you win the feeling of elation is indescribable to any who haven’t experienced it.

 

Becky remembers the feeling well. People would come up to her after her successful fights and congratulate her. Often times asking her how happy she was about the result and she was always too tired and proud to tell them the truth.

 

Hiding behind her schtick and projecting a sort of unbreakable confidence was easier than being honest.

 

Honesty would require her explaining how there was never any happiness for her after victory. Only relief that it was all over.

 

How that relief was short lived. And that when all the lights went away and Becky sat alone in her locker room with only her closest and most trusted allies that she wept.

 

Months of hard work; early mornings and late nights, all the bland food and permanent state of soreness in her body all culminated in minutes. Minutes that would define you until the next time you stepped in the cage.

 

The suffering that was training for a championship level MMA fight was undeniable and unavoidable if you wanted to be the best in the world.

 

Finn and Dave knew better than to bother her in those quiet moments when she allowed herself to just feel overwhelmed by everything. At most laying a knowing hand on her shoulder for a moment before going out into the hall and sitting outside the door to stop others from entering until she was finished and pulled together enough to be back in public.

 

Walking out of the room without a hint of the woman who had been sobbing just minutes ago. Her mask back in place as she prepared to go out to drink and or fuck till she couldn’t think.

 

In some ways looking at Sasha right now was like looking in a mirror to her own past, and she didn’t like what she saw.

 

Taking one last deep breath Becky rolled her neck and settled into a southpaw stance. Slowly and carefully starting to move to her right.

 

Her pulse was beating fast as she planted on her right leg. Each time she placed her foot down half expecting some sort of immediate explosion of pain from the surgically repaired ligaments.

 

Becky saw images of Sasha moving effortlessly around Paige and gritted her teeth against stiffness in her knee that came from lack of use. Not having been keeping up with her rehab as well as she should; much to Liv’s annoyance.

 

The tiny woman had given her an ultimatum. Either do the rehab right in front of Liv from here on out, or she would tell Charlotte and let the blonde oversee her rehab.

 

Needless to say Becky choose the former and had kept to her word. Finding Liv after lunch everyday and going through all the exercises with her seemed to be an infinitely better option that whatever Charlotte would have in store for her.

 

In her mind’s eye she saw the images of Sasha taunting Paige. Only now all of the taunts and humiliation was directed at Becky.

 

Unconsciously speeding up her movement despite the warning signs that she was pushing herself a little too hard.

 

She began to incorporate some shadow boxing into her movement. Imagining that Sasha was across from her and easily dodging all her attacks.

 

 _“Is that all you got?”_ Sasha would say.

 

Becky was breathing heavily as she fought against a ghost from her past. Caught up in the emotion and not thinking about her leg. For a while she was moving like she used to. Ducking and dodging imaginary counter attacks.

 

She tried to push off her right leg to cut a quick angle but a lightning bolt of pain shot through her knee and she crashed to the ground. Crying out and grabbing at her right knee with both of her shaking hands.

 

The phantom memory of pain from over a year ago making her pulse skyrocket. Sweat on her brow dripping down to the mat below and staining the canvas momentarily before it dried away with barely a trace.

 

For a few seconds her head had immediately went back to that night and she felt as if it was happening all over again.

 

Becky took several deep breaths and regained some control. The pain in her knee fading away to a level she could deal with.

 

She grabbed the ropes and pulled herself back to her feet. Testing out her knee and while it was sore and overworked, she luckily hadn’t re-injured it.

 

With a deep sigh of resignation and defeat Becky rolled out of the ring and hobbled back to the locker room for a long cold shower.

 

Walking away from the ghosts she left in the ring.

 

They would be there waiting for her tomorrow.

 

\----------

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley would have sworn that Sasha couldn’t do any more damage to her reputation than she already had in the fight. She would have been wrong.

 

Sasha’s post-fight presser had been more of the same but at an even higher pitch. If Sasha had been insufferable and obnoxious before and during the fight, then she was positively loathsome afterward. Bayley almost wished she could believe her friend was drunk, that might offer her a feeble excuse for Sasha’s behavior. But she knew Sasha and knew what she was like when drunk, this wasn’t that. This was angry and self-destructive Sasha.

 

No, that wasn’t right, Bayley thought. This wasn’t Sasha at all, this was ‘The Boss’. Maybe Sasha, the woman Bayley had known, wasn’t even around anymore.

 

Bayley forced herself to watch every second of it. By now it had nothing to do with work, she had more than enough to go on. No, now it was just she felt she somehow deserved this. This was how Bayley worked, she never blamed others if she could blame herself.

 

She kept wondering if she could have done something different. Maybe if she’d agreed to become Sasha’s ‘fighter girlfriend’ she could have done something to keep Sasha more stable. Maybe she could have been a positive influence in her life. She would never know now, all she did know was that it seemed ‘the Boss’ had won.

 

Bayley was making a hesitant start on her story when something on the TV caught her attention. It looked as though the presser was wrapping up but Sasha seemed to have one more stunt in mind. She was standing up behind the table, flashing her rings as usual, but then she looked off camera and beckoned to someone. A moment later Zelina Vega, Sasha’s girlfriend, appeared.

 

Bayley pressed her lips together as she watched. She knew that she should probably hate the other woman, for a long time she had been sleeping with Bayley’s de facto girlfriend. But, as she’s reflected before, Bayley had been the one that wouldn’t allow her and Sasha’s relationship to be official. So she felt like she didn’t have much room for jealousy.

 

She didn’t ‘like’ Zelina however and she was fairly certain she had good and honest reasons to do so. From what she’d seen and heard of the other woman Zelina seemed shallow and demanding. And it took someone who was transcendentally gifted in both to seem that way next to Sasha Banks. It also didn’t help that Zelina was a stunning woman who made Bayley feel self-conscious about her side pony and jeans based style.

 

She was so lost in these reflections that she almost missed what happened next. It was the motion on the TV that caught her eye. Sasha had turned to face Zelina and taking her hand before, suddenly, dropping to one knee.

 

“What the shit?” Bayley breathed as she watched.

 

“Zelina Vega, will you marry me?” the Sasha on the TV asked with a smug smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it certainly has been a while but we are committed to finishing this story for all those who've enjoyed it up to this point. 
> 
> Becky is still struggling but might have made a new friend or two. Charlotte is feeling the pressure of having a walking time bomb in her gym. Bayley is finally able to get her work out there after being made to look a fool by Mandy. Sasha continues to fall deeper into her Boss persona and went and proposed to Zelina. 
> 
> Hopefully you all enjoyed this new chapter and even though we both have other works, we have a great idea for where we are going with these characters and are excited to show you where they are going.
> 
> Also a Badgoose Nostalgic story recommendation because some of you may have not had the pleasure of reading this amazing Charlynch story. Enjoy https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039316/chapters/37439807


	6. Chapter 6: Endings and Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Today's Chapter
> 
> Becky: Announces herself to the World  
> Bayley: Struggles to dig herself out of a hole  
> Charlotte: Struggles to remain in control  
> Sasha: Gets very destructive

**Bayley**

 

“You alright?” Mojo Rawley asked over the phone. Bayley took a moment to answer, making sure her voice would be steady before she did so.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine Mo, I just can’t make it on today. I’m really sorry,” she answered.

 

She really meant this last part, she knew what kind of a bind this would put her friend in. Mo would have been promoting her appearing on the show for a few days now and Bayley was canceling last minute.

 

“Alright, just take care of yourself,” Mojo said finally. Bayley pressed her lips together and closed her eyes at this. Was it that obvious that something was bothering her? She’d been trying so hard to speak normally, and she’d thought she’d been succeeding.

 

“I will, I’ll make it up to you Mo. I promise,” she said before hanging up.

 

Almost as though she just used her last drop of energy in doing so she collapsed backward onto her hotel bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. She’d been doing a lot of this lately. Ever since Sasha’s big ‘announcement’ at her post-fight press conference as a matter of fact. Ever since...ever since Bayley’s life had been turned upside down.

 

The fact that this had happened at all was a source of extreme annoyance to her. Yet another negative emotion for her to parse through. She was annoyed because she knew that she was being unfair, to herself and to Sasha in a way. Bayley had been the one who had kept them officially separate, had insisted on it in fact. This being the case there was always the possibility that Sasha might move on but somehow this knowledge didn’t help.

 

Bayley and Sasha had been some kind of thing for so long that she’d guessed she’d just unconsciously assumed they always would be. If she analyzed this further she had to concede that what this really meant was that, on some level, she’d always assumed they’d end up together. That Sasha would, someday, mellow and that she and Bayley would be able to take a crack at something like a normal relationship.

 

Bayley had never checked with Sasha on this, never bothered to ask her erstwhile friend if she felt the same way. She told herself now that this would have been pointless. Quite apart from the fact that Sasha was now engaged, she also could guess what sort of reaction she would have gotten to it. She told herself these things, and they didn’t help.

 

For almost the first time in her life, Bayley was heartbroken.

 

It wasn’t that she’d never gone through a breakup before. She’d had her share, some more acrimonious than others. But she’d never felt this before. All her relationships that hadn’t involved Sasha had never really been serious. When they’d ended she’d been sad for a few days but her naturally cheerful nature had quickly reasserted itself.

 

Somehow she sensed this wouldn’t be the case here.

 

The night of Sasha’s last fight Bayley had watched, stunned, as Sasha had dropped to one knee in front of Zelina Vega at her post-fight press conference. She’d continued to look on in horrified silence as Zelina had, in a scene almost directly out of any bad RomCom, covered her mouth with both hands with eyes as wide as dinner plates. Eventually, she’d squealed ‘yes’ before leaping into Sasha’s arms.

 

Bayley had almost thrown the remote through the TV.

 

Unbidden she’d dealt with a surge ugly jealousy as this had happened. With shaking hand she’d carefully set her laptop aside, returned to her bed, withdrawn a pillow, and proceeded to silently punch it until her arms were burning. SIlently because she knew if she so much as opened her mouth she’d start screaming. Not something she could do as someone who lived in a hotel at the moment.

 

When she’d finally dropped back onto the bed she’d buried her face in it. She wouldn’t cry, she refused to that night. She’d forced herself to simply...feel. She’d wanted to rage at Sasha, Zelina Vega, and the universe in general. But she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t think of Zelina as a whore, she wouldn’t blame Sasha for being difficult, she wouldn’t do any of it.

 

Why?

 

Because she’d done this to herself.

 

Not intentionally, but she’d done it. How she had to live with it.

 

She’d reached that realization a few days ago and since then she’d been drifting around in a funk. Or rather, she’d moped around her hotel room in a funk. She’d simply not shown up at Flair’s gym the day after. When Charlotte’s called she’d plead illness and, sensing that the other woman didn’t fully believe this, had quickly hung up.

 

One of the many downsides to this situation was that she’d been left with nothing to do but brood and eat her feelings. Looking around at the empty food boxes in her room provided ample evidence that she’d been doing this at least. Unfortunately salt and sugar hadn’t been able to blot out her problems. Neither had visits to the hotel bar.

 

It was more than her tangle of feelings over Sasha and her engagement. Bayley had a practical problem. Money.

 

Bayley had done moderately well out the success from MMAyley.com. At least she no longer had to wait tables and deliver food on the side to support herself. She still did occasionally anyway because...money, but now it was just a bonus. But it might soon become an absolute necessity again.

 

Bayley had been living completely on her savings since she’d arrived here in Boston. She wasn’t staying in a 5-star hotel but her room still wasn’t cheap, and that wasn’t including the other basics of life. The nature of her job meant that even if her most recent story took off in a major way, she wouldn’t immediately realize any kind of financial reward.

 

Her situation was now a question of if her savings would last long enough for her to finish this story. But when would it be finished? That was harder to define.

 

Charlotte hadn’t ever specifically defined what she saw as the ‘end game’ for her relationship with Bayley. Beyond a vague sense that she’d have to clear out if/when Lynch got back to the pros, Bayley didn’t know either. This issue was complicated by the fact that she had a real liking for both women, despite some of their rougher edges. That, and not wanting to go back home yet regardless of money. California would mean memories, and she wasn’t ready to deal with them yet.

 

Deciding on the tried and true strategy of ignoring one's problems, Bayley rolled off her bed and checked her phone. She hadn’t been back to the Gym in two days. If she wasn’t going to hemorrhage money here she might as well be working. She was given a moment’s pause by the thought of the looks and questions she might have to deal with when she arrived but she pushed these aside. She’d sulked enough, time to be a big girl.

 

Tugging on her coat and grabbing her bag, Bayley strode out of her hotel room.

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

Charlotte prided herself on being acutely aware of everything around her. She liked to think of herself as the Queen of the castle that was this gym.

As soon as Bayley had skulked in a little after one in the afternoon - far later than normal for her - Charlotte knew her assumptions about why the brunette had called in sick this week were probably correct.

 

From the moment she saw the montage of Sasha’s ‘best moments of the weekend’ Charlotte had an inkling that Bayley wouldn’t take so kindly to her antics. Regardless of their current relationship status.

 

She had tried several times throughout the afternoon to catch the reporter’s eye and spark a conversation, but the brunette had always seemed to be deep in some sort of work.

 

As it neared the end of the day Charlotte decided that she wasn’t going to allow the woman to ignore her - purposefully or not - any longer.

 

Bayley had done her best to be her usual self today. She really had. But that mask had felt unusually heavy. She’d been at the gym for several hours finding some small refuge in her professional study of Lynch in the ring. Now that the Irish woman was clearing out for the gyms night classes all Bayley wanted to do was go back to her hotel room.

 

A few hours of staring at the ceiling sounded just fine.

 

Slinging her bag over her shoulder she walked past her usual ‘office’ (what she’d taken to calling the chronically vacant men’s locker room) and had beelined for the door. Only to be intercepted.

 

Charlotte barely caught sight of the bouncing ponytail as it whisked past her towards the front door. She was determined not to allow Bayley to get away without at least a quick talk and used her significantly longer stride to make up the distance and reach her before she was able to reach the doors. “Hey, Bayley. Feeling better today?”

 

Hearing the familiar voice behind her Bayley froze, standing more rigidly than she usually did. Closing her eyes and feeling like an employee who had tried to leave at 4:15 on a Friday she took a moment to school her features into something like her usual cheerful expression before turning.

 

“Hi, Charlotte! Yeah, I’m feeling much better thanks! Just trying to get a jump on the next article,” she said. Even as she did she knew she’d WAY overdone the performance. Inwardly kicking herself it took all her strength of will to keep her smile plastered on her face.

 

Charlotte crossed her arms across her chest and gave Bayley a perplexed look. Taking a deep breath and quickly looking around the rapidly emptying gym. Noting how Becky had been looking in their direction only to quickly avert her eyes and return to her task of stacking mats against the wall when as soon as she was caught.

 

“That’s good. Well if you want to get a jump on your next article I have a few things I’d love to discuss with you. In private.” Charlotte made sure to emphasize the last words so that Bayley would know that she didn’t intend to only talk about business matters.

 

The last words sounded in Bayley’s ears like the tolling of a bell. She’d know that there was a possibility this could come up ever since she’d told Charlotte about her relationship with Sasha. But given what had happened in London she’d felt it had become nearly inevitable. She held a furious and rapid internal debate with herself for a few moments. Did she even want to have this conversation?

 

Realizing she’d been quiet for too long her smile became much weaker but more authentic as she asked: “I suppose it’s too late for me to cough now and pretend like I’m still feeling sick?”

 

“You’d be correct.” Charlotte gave Bayley no quarter. Fixing her with a stern no-nonsense glare.

 

Still wearing her weak smile Bayley’s shoulder slumped and she waved a hand toward the stairs at the back of the gym saying: “Lead the way.”

 

In a rare display for Charlotte, she opened the door to her office and let Bayley enter first. Closing the door behind them and flipping the deadbolt locked.

 

She walked past her desk and took a key out of her pocket. Pushing it inside the keyhole for the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet and opening it to pull out a case of still chilly beer.

 

Charlotte saw the look the brunette gave her as she brought the case over and shrugged. “Got ‘em from Ruby again. We owe her by the way. Figured you might need one after last weekend.”

 

Bayley didn’t speak for a time, trying her best to keep up her facade. She picked at the hem of her coat for a while before she muttered: “Thanks, Charlotte.”

 

It was easy to see how out of it Bayley was. Her normal energetic self was miles from the tired zombie-like woman that sat in front of Charlotte currently.

 

Having thought ahead this time Charlotte had been smart enough to bring a bottle opener and quickly popped the tops off two beers and slid one across the desk towards the other woman. “Do you want to talk about it or just sit here in silence and continue being miserable?”

 

The corner of Bayley’s lip twitched, though she wasn’t sure that ‘quivered’ wasn’t the right term, as she answered: “Well, you locked the door and you’re bigger than me so can I actually pick the silent misery?”

 

“No. You’ve left me to deal with Lynch for two days by myself. I have no patience left to give. So just make this easier on both of us and start talking, Ace.” Charlotte took a long sip from her beer to give Bayley plenty of time to start talking.

 

Bayley stalled for time by reaching for her own beer and, ostentatiously ignoring the bottle opener, once again used the edge of Charlotte’s desk. She could see the small nicks accumulating where she’d been doing this and this tiny act of petulant rebellion did make her feel better for...a millisecond. Sighing she asked: “Tell me honestly, in my position would YOU want to be talking about this?”

 

Charlotte mulled it over. “Probably not. But I’d want a friend there who was willing to try and help.” Trying to get Bayley to feel a little more comfortable. Keenly aware of how tense she was behind the slowly decaying facade she still put on. “Even if it hurts to talk.”

 

“ _Loca gringa_ …” Bayley muttered into her beer before taking an unusually long pull from her beer. When she came up for air she shook her head and something inside her gave way then. “What is there to say? The woman who I think I might have loved but kept at arm’s length of my own free will is now engaged to a preening little twit. And quite possibly engaged only out of a fit of petulance caused by my being here. You think that sums it up well?” she burst out bitterly before taking refuge in her beer once more.

 

Charlotte pulled the beer up in front of her mouth not to drink from but to hide the smile curling on her lips. Unfortunately, it did nothing to stop the sound of her laughter from bubbling up. She could see Bayley beginning to give her a look but waved her off and set the beer back down. “I’m not laughing at your situation. It’s just, I’ve never really heard you speak with so much anger in your voice.” Another tiny bubble of unwanted laughter came up and Charlotte quickly drained her beer to stifle any further noise. “It comes across more cute than intimidating.”

 

“ _Caramba gracias_ ,” Bayley muttered as she opened a second beer. She stared into it for   before gave a bitter chuckle and asked: “Would you believe you’re not the first, second, tenth, or twentieth person to tell me that?”

 

The next bottle of beer was open in a flash and Charlotte held onto it while she answered: “Well maybe we all have a point.” Quickly draining half the bottle as she reflected on the stressful last two days of dealing with Lynch and not having Bayley to bitch to at least once or twice through the day. “You might not have been the only one who needed this by the way.”

 

“Sasha was of the opinion that me being angry is like watching ‘a muppet have a tantrum’,” Bayley said bitterly as she killed her second beer. “Puta…” she muttered before the second half of what Charlotte had said finally registered with her. Some of her natural kindness and concern reasserted itself as she asked: “What’s been going on?”

 

Charlotte had been chuckling at the muppet line but was unprepared to talk about herself despite bringing it up. She quickly drained the rest of her beer after she saw Bayley do the same. “Lynch. Do I need to say more? The woman continues to not listen to anything I say and I have to fight every urge in me to not just slap some sense into her.” The blonde opened another beer and nearly finished it in one. “Stubborn idiot just tries to do everything on her own even though I’m the one putting my reputation on the line here.”

 

Grateful for any excuse to NOT be talking about Sasha, Bayley seized on this saying: “You know I probably shouldn’t be admitting this, as a journalist, but I like Becky and I like you. So I feel like what I SHOULD be saying is how you’re both delightful and that you’ll get along fine. But...in all honesty what you’re telling me is not at all surprising.”

 

The faint noise of people filtering into the gym below made it into the office and Charlotte peered over towards the window for a quick moment. “Enlighten me.”

 

“ _Dios mio_ you’re both strong women who like to be in charge of your worlds. Becky is inherently under some degree of your control due to your situation and YOU don’t like that Becky is a rogue element. It’s not surprising that there is some...friction,” Bayley finished lamely, finding it harder to open her latest beer as she was starting to make a more noticeable mess of the edge of Charlotte’s desk.

 

Charlotte sipped at the end of her third beer and took in Bayley’s words. The inherent truth to them making the blonde do what she did best with personal matters and deflect. “A reporter and a psychologist. Sasha really did miss out.”

 

“Oh I’m sure her _puta_ will make her very happy when they’re both old and grey- oops I meant her fiance,” Bayley said with more bitterness than she usually expressed over the course of a year.

 

The empty beer bottles were starting to crowd Charlotte’s already cluttered desk as she opened another and set it down directly on the wood. “I give them six months tops. One month before Sasha is calling you for a booty call at 2 a.m.”

 

Bayley almost choked into her beer before saying: “You know as an effort to cheer me up that was _muy mal_.”

 

Charlotte grinned over the top of her bottle. “I never said I was any _Bueno_ at this stuff.” She took a quick drink and winked at the reporter. “I’d bet a lot of money on the under for the second one.”

 

Bayley took another pull from her beer and said, in more a Spanglish accent than was usual for her: “Your _Espanol_ is not ‘ _Bueno_ ’ at all”. She punctuated this by giggling.

 

“My experience with Spanish is a bunch of sweaty men punching each other and swearing.” Taking another long drink before wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. “Not the best environment for really learning the language.”

 

Giggling again, Bayley quipped: “Well, now we know what Charlotte did to get through college.”

 

Charlotte smiled and shook her head. Running a hand through her long blonde hair and leaning back further into her chair. “Sometimes you just gotta do, what you gotta do.”

 

With a flick of the finger, Charlotte sent one of the bottle caps off the side of the table where it landed in the trash.

 

“I like to see that you are actually smiling for once,” Charlotte spoke gently. Trying not to spook the other woman into retreating. “It’s really easy to tell when you are faking it.” Adding on as an afterthought, “At least, for me it is.”

 

This momentarily dampened Bayley’s mood as she said: “It’s the downside of usually being happy, you’re not good at the other stuff.”

 

“That’s not such a bad thing.” Charlotte offered up. “Lynch and Sasha are living proof that the opposite can be true. I think of the two options you got the better end of it.”

 

“ _un montón de bien gordo_ que _me hizo…”_ Bayley muttered and then realized who she was talking to and offered the translation: “A fat lot of good that it’s done me in the end.”

 

Charlotte chuckled and took a sip from her beer. Maybe it was the beer, but Charlotte decided to place her feet up on the table and lean back even further into her leather chair. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about this anymore, but I will just say that if you ever do want to talk…” Trailing off and letting Bayley fill in the blanks.

 

Bayley picked at the label on her beer for a while before she answered. The truth was she hadn’t been lying earlier, she wasn’t sure what there was to talk about. She had been part of causing this situation for herself and now here she was. Still, she recognized the olive branch being extended from the other woman and she did appreciate it.

 

“Thanks...I guess...I don’t know. On some level I always hoped that Sasha would mellow out and...and…” she trailed off, unable to finish the statement.

 

Unbidden a flash of orange hair made its way across her mind before she blinked it away. Frowning at the implication Bayley made. Genuine sympathy showing on her face. “I get it.”

 

Bayley was quiet again. When she did speak it was very softly as she said: “You really do, don’t you?”

 

Charlotte offered a sad smile in response and sipped idly from her beer. “Wish I didn’t sometimes.” A somewhat forced laugh making its way from her mouth as she stared across the table.

 

“Well I’m sure SASHA will come around...eventually,” Bayley offered, trying to smile.

 

Charlotte got what Bayley was hinting at and tried her best to ignore how the words of encouragement made her heart beat a little faster. “Yeah… Maybe. Is it fair to wait for someone who might never grow up though?”

 

Bayley gave a bitter bark of laughter at this. “Well, I might not be the one to ask right?” she said in a voice that mixed cynicism and sadness.

 

With a shake of her head, Charlotte admitted: “Maybe. Or maybe you are the perfect person to ask and get the cold hard truth from.” Taking another drink from her beer and setting the now empty bottle back down on the desk. “Seems like that’s one of those things a good reporter does.”

 

It was on Bayley’s mind to be annoyed by this comment but she decided against it. Charlotte obviously didn’t mean anything by it and they were probably both drunk.

 

“I’ll tell you what I told myself...if you think that SASHA is the one...then you wait, plain and simple,” she said.

 

Charlotte stared down at the desk. With a heavy sigh, she looked across at the other woman and saw the truth in her eyes. “I think we’ve spent enough time focusing on women who only make our lives more frustrating.” Pulling out another beer and popping the top off before holding it halfway across the table. “How about a toast. To less complications.”

 

Retrieving another beer and then taking a moment to find a clear spot for her empty Bayley clinked hers against Charlotte’s. Her attempts to open hers on the desk were less successful, apparently, it was much more difficult to do that particular trick when drunk.

 

Charlotte started to laugh when she saw Bayley’s attempts fail. That may not have been the smartest thing though as she leaned a little further back in the chair and nearly fell backward. Just managing to catch herself and return her feet solidly to the ground.

 

A red blush that Charlotte would blame on the alcohol crossed her cheeks from embarrassment at her clumsiness. The irony not being lost on her that she had been laughing at Bayley’s drunken antics right before her own.

 

Bayley couldn’t help it. The laughter burst out of her at this. A moment later she was almost rolling in her chair. She knew that she was only laughing like this because she was drunk but that didn’t make Charlotte’s near fall any less amusing to her.

 

“We...we are probably too drunk to be doing anything right now…” she gasped through her mirth.

 

Charlotte felt herself relax and agreed with the sentiment. “Probably. What are we going to do then?” Answering with some laughter of her own at how drunk they both were right now.

 

“I don’t know about you chica but I am going to go back to my hotel and-” Bayley had been making her somewhat lofty pronouncement as she lurched out of her chair and toward the door. She made it about halfway before she caught her foot on something and went down like a bag of rocks.

 

Charlotte shot out of her chair and with a surprising steadiness quickly made her way across the room and knelt down next to the fallen brunette. Quickly looking over her for any injuries more significant than the one undoubtedly done to her pride, but finding herself a little surprised that Bayley continued laughing through it all. “You alright down there Bay?”

 

“Of course…” Bayley began but realizing how much she was slurring she tried again “...of course I’m not alright. BUT...I am hilarious she said as she put her hands on Charlotte’s shoulders to pull herself upward. A moment later she felt strong hands on her back and, suddenly, she was IN Charlotte’s arms.

 

Bayley, when sober, sometimes liked to think she had a small command center in her head. It was fully staffed and oversaw everything she did and thought. She was aware of how insane this might sound so she kept it to herself, mostly. She was still smarting a bit at how Sasha had laughed when she’d told the other woman.

 

BUT, if she was right, then she imagined at this moment that the command staff was sprinting around frantically as red lights flashed and sirens blared. She knew she was in a compromising situation, she knew what had just flashed through her mind, and she also knew that, if Charlotte didn’t do anything to stop her, she’d do it anyway.

 

No such stopping action came and a moment later Bayley leaned up and kissed Charlotte.

 

From the moment Charlotte had pulled Bayley up she knew that in her state she had miscalculated her strength and from that moment onwards Charlotte’s entire brain seemed to turn off as all of her senses burned from having another person so close.

 

She made the mistake of looking down and saw some of her own sadness reflected from deep within Bayley’s eyes and felt a kindred spirit with the woman.

 

Charlotte had been well aware of Bayley leaning in closer and had stood there frozen till the soft lips pressed against hers.

 

The warmth and companionship felt more intoxicating that the beer they had been consuming and Charlotte’s hands squeezed Bayley a little tighter to her. Losing herself in the primal feeling and answering by opening her own lips and sliding her tongue gently across Bayley’s bottom lip.

 

A furious battle was raging within Bayley as she felt the warmth and silky softness of Charlotte’s lips on hers. One part of her, the louder part, wanted to snake her arms around Charlotte’s neck and pull the taller woman down on top of her. What happened after that would be out of her hands. But another, less vocal but ultimately more rational, part of Bayley had clearly decided that enough was enough. She had to stop this. And she would, though she did luxuriate in the feeling of Charlotte’s tongue on her lip for a second or two more.

 

Pulling gently back, not wanting to startle or offend Charlotte Bayley smiled ruefully up at her friend. “This is probably a bad idea...” she whispered, not letting go of Charlotte. This was partly because she didn’t want to fall to the floor, but mostly because she wanted Charlotte to know she wasn’t angry.

 

Just for a second Charlotte wanted to feel affronted and annoyed but found herself resigned to agree. As all the reasons why this was a horrible decision came crashing in and pulling her back down to earth.

 

She took a deep breath and let herself just hold onto the woman she had come to appreciate as a friend for a few seconds longer. “You’re probably right. I feel like we both would just be using each other.” Looking down at the floor before letting herself look back up and meet Bayley’s eyes.

 

Bayley nodded silently. Her mind was still racing but she knew she had to speak. She settled on: “I agree...still friends?”

 

Charlotte nodded right back. “Of course.” She pulled her hands off the warm body partially beneath her and leaned further back. “I need to finish up some work stuff tonight. So I should probably get on that...”

 

Sensing the rising panic in her friend over what had nearly happened Bayley took Charlotte’s face in her hands and spoke as firmly as she could through her buzz. “Charlotte, I’m not mad and you don’t have to be upset,” she assured the other woman as she finally managed to stand up and dust herself off.

 

Charlotte realized that her panic must have been showing and was actually happy it had. Bayley’s reassurance meant a lot and went a long way towards helping bring her beating heart down to a more normal level. “Thanks… I really do need to try and finish some work though. But honestly, I don’t think I’m sober enough right now.” Chuckling at her own joke.

 

“That is probably a good idea for both of us…” Bayley said as she grasped her bag more tightly before exiting Charlotte’s office. The stairs took longer than usual as she was taking more care but when she reached the bottom Bayley realized she didn’t want to go back to her hotel now. The only thing waiting for her there was regret...with a dash of worry.

 

Looking around her eyes fell on the doors to the perpetually empty men’s locker room. She was really in no fit state to write but what the hell. As she made her way toward the doors something clanked in her bag and she frowned. Digging inside she found the small bottle of tequila she’d bought immediately after the fight, intending to be self-destructive.

 

“Thank god I forgot about you just now,” she muttered to the bottle before pushing into the locker room.

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

It was a little after ten at night and Becky was making one last sweep through the gym. Checking for anything she may have missed in her clean up.

 

She walked past the men’s locker room without sparing a glance. Usually only bothering to clean the virtual ghost town once a week at most. Although she did occasionally use it herself when the female locker room was full and she didn’t feel like going upstairs to her room.  

 

The faint sounds of what seemed to be singing came from beneath the door and caused her to pause in mid-step. Tilting her head and listening closely. Now sure that a feminine voice was coming from inside the men’s locker room.

 

Becky walked inside and looked around the room curiously. Her eyes stopping on the source of the noise and shaking her head.

 

Bayley was lying down on one of the benches with an empty bottle of what appeared to be tequila from a hotel minibar. Her bag lying down on the ground next to her as she slurred her way alongside the song playing through her phone. “ _Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito!_ ”

 

Becky watched on in amusement for a moment as she walked a little closer and recoiled from the loud and offkey singing that pierced her eardrums. “Hey there Bayley. I’ve got literally no idea what the hell you are saying but I’m going to need you to just stop. For the sake of my sanity. Please, no more singing.”

 

“ _PUTA! Mi canto es increíble_ …” Bayley slurred as she wiggled awkwardly along to the song coming from her phone.

 

Becky sighed and muttered under her breath. Moving closer and gently grabbing hold of Bayley by the elbow and pulling her up into a sitting position. “One more time. I’ve got no idea what the fuck you are saying. So, why don’t you help me out just a little bit here.” Reaching down with her other hand and silencing the phone and returning the locker room to relative silence.

 

“Aye! I was...I was…*hiccup* I was listening to that...BECKY!” Bayley slurred before giggling drunkenly.

 

Becky chuckled at the whining. Pulling the woman’s arm over her shoulder and lifting her up to her feet.

 

The reporter seemed to have a hard time keeping her legs underneath her. Reminding Becky of a fighter who just got rocked and is only holding themselves up by instinct alone.

 

Rather than trying to deal with dragging along the sure to be unhelpful brunette Becky simply scooped her up into a bridal style carry and started to walk towards the exit. Looking at this as an opportunity to do something nice for another person and to repay some of the debt she felt was owed. “You can listen to it tomorrow morning. Right now you need to sleep this off.”

 

Bayley, who was finding the whole world much more amusing than usual, giggled again and asked: “What? Do you want me to speak in GAELIC or something? Who speaks Gaelic? You’d need like...like a binder or something to learn it!”

 

Becky cracked a tiny smile but couldn’t help wondering what had driven Bayley to drink so much while still at work. She really didn’t want to have to discuss it though so instead she just deflected and pushed aside her worry as much she could. “You really are pissed aren’t you?” Making her way up the stairs to her room slowly. Careful to not hit her precious cargo’s head on the wall.

 

Bayley linked her arms around Becky’s neck and giggled again saying: “Uww...this is sooooo romantic..Oops!” She broke down in a fit of giggles again before adding: “I won’t tell her if you don’t...but...wait...Oh, _dios mio_! I could totally go for some...some..*hiccup* food from a Clex’s! Do they have those here?”

 

Becky was barely listening to Bayley’s drunken ramblings. Preoccupied with making her way up the stairs and figuring out how to open her door without dropping Bayley to the floor. “I’m not getting you any food tonight. Just be happy I’m letting you sleep it off here.”

 

“ _Bueno, no es que no lo hayas hecho antes_....” Bayley said before her face fell with almost comic rapidity “...oh my god Becky I am SO SORRY! That was soooooo mean I’m...I’m.” The weeping began.

 

In the best of circumstances, Becky wasn’t good at offering comfort to other people and this wasn’t even close to the best.

 

She made her way inside her room and walked over to her messy and unkempt bed. Setting the weepy woman gently down and uncomfortably leaving her hand just resting on the reporter’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Just… Just get some sleep.” raising her hand and awkwardly patting the other woman. Her discomfort rising at the tears that shined on Bayley’s cheeks.

 

“Thanks..*hiccup*...Beck. You’re really...really sweet she’s lucky to...what?” Bayley murmured as she felt the weight of her eyelids suddenly increase dramatically.

 

Becky was glad the room was dark and Bayley was drunk enough to not remember how she had blushed when Bayley called her ‘sweet’. That particular word not having been used to describe Becky in a long time.

 

She could see the other woman’s eyelids drooping low and gave her what she hoped was a comforting and friendly smile. “We can talk about it in the morning.” Becky promised. Knowing that there would be no way that Bayley would remember it come morning, and having no intention of getting into it then. She reached down and grabbed one of her sheets. Pulling it up and over the tired lump that was lying on her bed. “Get some sleep already.”

 

Becky indulged herself in a quick squeeze of the other woman’s hand. All the vulnerability she felt like displaying right now.

 

She turned on her heel as Bayley’s eyes shifted closed and went to gather a few things Bayley would surely want come morning time. Unaware that she wasn’t fully asleep yet.

 

“ _Buenas noches mi amig_ a,” Bayly murmured before, less than five seconds later, the snoring began.

 

Becky came back to the room and placed a garbage can next to the bed just in case. As well as placing an unopened bottle of water and two aspirins on the small rickety bedside table her alarm clock sat on.

 

With a heavy sigh, Becky looked towards her couch and resigned herself to a night of uncomfortable sleep.

 

She took one last look at the sleeping woman in her bed and quietly laughed. There was a time when a woman sleeping in her bed meant that a host of other adult type activities had taken place prior, but those days seemed far away right now.

 

Lying down on the couch Becky pulled a blanket over herself and didn’t even bother changing. Letting her own exhaustion overtake her and lull her to her normal fitful sleep.

 

When Bayley cracked her eyes the next morning she instantly regretted it. She felt like someone had detonated a claymore mine in her skull and now the ball bearings were ricocheting around. Her stomach was braiding itself in her gut and her mouth felt like a blast furnace. All in all...she’d been much better.

 

Groaning loudly she rolled over in bed. Even through her pain, a thought occurred to her then. Where was she? She didn’t remember having gone home and her brief look had told her that this wasn’t her hotel anyway.

 

“Oh shit,” she said, she thought to herself, had she…

 

She had had a vague recollection of kissing Charlotte Flair the night before. Grimacing against more than the pain now she forced her to roll over to find...surprisingly little bed to her other side. She also found the light coming in through a window which instantly made her hiss in pain.

 

“Probably should have closed them blinds. My bad.” Becky spoke from her spot leaning against the door frame. Already dressed in her gym clothes. “Some pills and water on the table for you.” She pointed out.

 

“Shhhh!” Bayley moaned as she covered her head with her pillow. A few moments later her voice drifted out from under it saying: “I kind of expected a more comprehensive hangover cure from you.”

 

Becky darkly chuckled and raised her protein shake up to her mouth. Taking a big swig of the thick liquid before responding. “My only cure was to not let myself sober up. Probably not the best cure in hindsight, but it did work… Technically.”

 

Bayley knew this was her time to say something reassuring but that was for times when she didn’t feel like vomiting. Still hiding under her pillow she asked: “What time is it?”

 

“Just after ten in the morning. You didn’t even wake up when I was getting changed to go for my morning run. I was actually a little disappointed. Must be losing my touch.” Jokingly flirting with the other woman to try and make her feel more at ease in Becky’s own way.

 

“Blahhhhhhh,” was all Bayley managed to moan at first. There was another pause and then she muttered: “I have to go back to my hotel to shower and change.”

 

Becky took another drink. “You really should. Wouldn’t want the girls to think we did the ol’ nasty.” Smirking as she continued to tease the hungover woman.

 

“You’re a sadist Becky Lynch,” Bayley muttered as she stood from the bed and took the aspirin.

 

“Helps in my line of work.”

 

Bayley made a face as she limped toward the door. As she passed Becky though she stopped and asked: “About last night...I didn’t say anything...too…” she trailed off.

 

“Lass, you made less sense than a talking dog that does karate. Kept muttering on and on some nonsense about ‘she’ being lucky and some other shite.” Waving her hand dismissively and hoping that Bayley would leave it at that.

 

Bayley gave a rueful smile and started to leave again before stopping. “I seem to remember saying something about Gaelic? It wasn’t too offensive was it?”

 

Becky shook her head at the woman’s typical response. Even after only being around her for a relatively short amount of time Becky had realized that Bayley always was courteous. Even to a fault at times. “It would take a lot more than anything you said to offend me. Been called a lot worse things over the last year.”

 

“I suppose you probably have...how many of them by Charlotte?” Bayley teased, she felt like crap but she found that this actually raised her mood.

 

Blindsided was probably the appropriate word to describe how Becky felt at Bayley bringing up Charlotte. The blonde had been on her mind more than she would like to admit. Her not so subtle method of motivating a source of constant annoyance.

 

In an uncommon display, Becky shifted her weight back and forth as she realized that she had been quiet for longer than normal and Bayley was giving her an odd look.

 

“I guess I try to just ignore her as much as possible. Wouldn’t really know.” Wanting nothing more than for the reporter to do the opposite of her job and not press for a better answer.

 

Even still slightly drunk and feeling like death Bayley was a reporter at heart. She knew a ‘no comment’ when she heard one. Smiling she thanks Becky one last time and made her way down to the gym. As she did she reflected this was as close to a ‘walk of shame’ as she’d ever had.

 

Charlotte had been in the middle of discussing some business with Ruby when she spotted Bayley across the gym.

 

The blonde had to do a double take as her eyes narrowed and lost track of where she was in the conversation. Taking note of the haphazard style of Bayley’s hair and the wrinkled state of clothes that Charlotte could have sworn she was wearing yesterday.

 

When she noticed where Bayley had descended from she felt an odd assortment of emotions that she couldn’t decipher. Peering across the gym with a curious and confused look on her face as the reporter moved towards the exit.

 

Bayley had pulled her coat tightly around herself and was all but holding a hand to one side of her eye in an effort to avoid meeting anyone's gaze as she left the gym. She was very much regretting her lack of sunglasses at the moment. Her tentative plan was to simply bolt, get to her room, shower, pass out, and then try to be back later in the afternoon.

 

Charlotte took one more look at the brunette and started walking towards the stairs to Reid’s old room and the place Becky occupied. Assuming the worst but not really knowing what that was.

 

“Charlotte! Charlotte! Where are you going?” Ruby called out as she left mid-conversation.

 

Paying her no heed Charlotte raised a finger to signal to Ruby she needed a minute and took off. Ruby turning and walking away as soon as she saw where the other woman was going.

 

**Charlotte**

 

Charlotte took the stairs two at a time. Her long legs making it easy to climb quickly.

 

Her knuckles bashed against the wooden door that led to Reid’s old room and she tapped her foot impatiently. “HOLD YER HORSES FER FUCKS SAKE!”

 

Charlotte could hear Becky muttering yet more curse words that she didn’t try to hide. Staring at the door and waiting as she heard the women draw closer. Her eyes staring a hole through the wood.

 

She knocked again after a few seconds. Partially out of some desire to annoy the other woman and give her a taste of her own medicine, and partially because she couldn’t sit still. Her skin crawling with unease as she waited on the landing.

 

After far longer than Charlotte felt was necessary the door finally swung open. “Oh… It’s you. What the hell are you bothering me for? I’ve been following all your rules Sheriff Flair.”

 

As it always was with Becky, Charlotte found herself holding back her vitriol. Taking a moment to filter some of the worse options out before she responded, getting straight to the reason for her coming up here. “What happened last night?”

 

Charlotte watched as Becky swiftly hid the shock from her face and fixed her with a fake, but relatively convincing, look of disinterest. Leaning casually against the doorjamb with her arms crossed in what Charlotte had come to see was a pavlovian response to her getting uncomfortable.

 

“The sun went down and then the world spun till it came back up this morning.”

 

Charlotte’s lips formed a thin line as she stared down at the other woman. “Why did Bayley come down from your room just now?”

 

“What’s it to ya? Free country and all.”

 

With just a tiny turn of her neck, Charlotte felt it pop and release some of the tension she always felt when dealing with Lynch. “I can’t have you fucking my employees. I don’t need anyone getting all screwed up because you can’t keep it in your pants.” Anger fueled by frustrating jealousy rising within her.

 

Becky was affronted on Bayleys behalf. Pushing herself off the door jamb and stepping closer to the blonde. Annoyed that she had to look up to meet her eyes but unwilling to back down after the insinuation. “Fuck you Flair. Nothing even happened last night.”

 

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

 

“Well, you are blonde. Maybe it’s just taking a while to sink in.”

 

Charlotte poked a finger into Becky’s sternum warningly. “You really need to treat me with some respect. I’m trying to help your dumbass not fall face first.”

 

“Great. Congratulations. I’m sure it feels great to be the perfect one who gets to take credit for fixing the wreck.” Becky scoffed. Her breath now rapid as she realized how close she and Charlotte were. Barely an inch separating them from being pressed against each other. Unbidden the desire to press herself closer hit Becky and she had to shake it off.

 

Sure the blonde was ridiculously attractive and maybe the holier than thou attitude did something to get her engine roaring but Becky wouldn’t let herself consider Charlotte as more than a potential mistake.

 

“For what it’s worth I swear on my life that I didn’t sleep with her. She fell asleep doing some work late last night in the gym and I offered her a spot to sleep. End of story.”

Charlotte looked at her closely. Eventually coming to the conclusion that maybe she had overreacted. “Alright... I believe you.”

 

“Oh, thank you so much, your majesty.”

 

Her eyes rolled of their own accord and she had to fight off a tiny ghost of a smile. She looked down and accidentally found herself following several tendrils of orange hair down the side of Becky’s face where they had fallen out of her loose ponytail. Continuing to follow them down and averting her eyes before she was caught staring at the sight of Becky barely contained in a blue and black sports bra. “Just keep it that way. We don’t let you stay here just out of my father’s kindness.” Doing her best to save face and act like she was in charge.

 

Becky had caught the blonde’s eye wandering southward and grinned. Maybe the other girl wasn’t the emotionless, untouchable robot she tried to be. “My eyes are up here by the way.” She teased. Delighted when the blonde snapped her gaze to Becky and gave her the evil eye.

 

Charlotte didn’t want to dignify her with a response but decided to be brutally honest. “You're attractive. I will give you that. But I would rather fall off a cliff than willingly get personally involved with a ticking time bomb like you.” Turning away and making her way back down the stairs. Heart beating uncontrollably in her chest as she fought to not turn around and see how Becky had taken her comment.

 

It was probably a good thing too. If she had seen the unguarded self-loathing on the woman’s face she might not have been able to walk away.

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

It was only her fifth lesson but Becky had started to look forward to these sessions. Though she wouldn’t readily admit that if someone directly asked her. More than likely downplaying it by saying something along the lines of, “It passes the time.” or something similar.

 

She taught another more advanced MMA Jiu-Jitsu course that was great for her in terms of getting some practical experience she could bring to her fights even while teaching, but she truly enjoyed working with the beginners and seeing them develop. Those hour increments being some of the only time when Becky felt all the baggage she carried fall to the wayside.

 

It inevitably found its way back like a stray cat that returned to the same place every night but Becky relished the pureness in that time. All of those old martial arts saying that she had scoffed at in the past about ‘being like water’ suddenly had a feeling she could associate with what they were speaking of. The words finally having a meaning to her that she could grasp.

 

The latest lesson had wrapped up about ten minutes ago and almost every one of her students had filtered back out into the cold Boston night. All of them except for one.

 

Becky noticed the little girl she had taken a shine to sitting by herself. Back pressed against the wall near the door as she played around on her phone.

 

The fighter continued to clean up the area they had been using. Preferring to do the tedious task herself rather than getting her students to do it prior to leaving. An odd sense that she was paying penance by doing it drove her to deny anytime help was offered.

 

After another five or so minutes had passed and Lizzie still sat there with a frown on her face as she played some colorful game on her phone.

 

Becky walked over in the girl’s direction and kneeled down. Trying not to startle her and grab her attention away from the phone distraction. “Hey, Lizzie. Where’s your mum?”

 

The girl looked up from her phone and answered. “She said she’s running late but not to worry.”

 

“Did she say how late she would be?” Becky asked back. Quickly looking around the gym and seeing that Ruby had already left and Bayley happened to be the only other adult in the immediate area. Typing away on her laptop where she had it plugged into the wall.

 

“She didn’t know for sure.” Her attention going right back down to her phone.

 

Becky wished she had some more information but sensed that something weird may be going on with the girl’s mother tonight. Who knows exactly how long it would be until she arrived. The clock already showing that it was 8:52 at night. Well past the time class ended.

 

With a sigh, she sat down next to the girl and settled in. “You mind if I sit here with you till your mom gets here?” Becky asked to which Lizzie gave a tiny nod and remained glued to her game.

 

She sat awkwardly next to the girl and scratched the back of her head.

 

When it was in a class setting she seemed to be able to easily interact with the young lady next to her but outside of that, she felt odd. Like a puzzle piece trying to fit into the wrong puzzle.

 

“What you playing there?” Her question lame but at least something.

 

“PUBG.”

 

“What now?”

 

“Pub-G.” Lizzie slowly pronounced. “Could you be quiet, please. I’m in top five.”

 

“What’s does that mean?”

 

“It means -- DAMNIT! What a bitch. What piece of shit hides in a bush for twenty minutes? That’s not even fun!”

 

“Hey! Watch the language! While you are in my gym you will follow the same rules I have during my class. Do I make myself clear?” The moment feeling surreal to Becky. Far too used to being on the opposite side of this dynamic.

 

“Yes, Ms. Lynch.” She grumbled. Putting her phone down on the ground and pouting.

 

Becky still didn’t know how best to deal with this situation. Luckily she saw Bayley walking across the gym and whistled loudly to catch her attention. Waving her over so that she would have an ally in dealing with the young one.

 

Bayley rolled her eyes as she saw who had whistled at her. As she made her way over to Becky she called: “Hey, Bayley, could you come over here, please? Why sure Becky I’d be happy to! Especially after you asked in such a respectful manner.”

 

Becky prepped a profanity-laden retort but caught herself. Remembering what she had just said to the young girl and biting her tongue. Forcing herself to do something she wasn’t very good at. “I’m sorry Bayley. That was rude of me. Would you please come over here?” An extremely forced smile barely making its way onto her face.

 

Bayley pretended to be shocked as she turned to look at the young girl sitting next to Becky with a wink and said: “Did Becky Lynch just ask for something politely? That must have hurt, are you OK Becky?”

 

She heard the tiny snort come from the girl next to her and Becky tried to glare at Bayley. Knowing that the intimidation factor was hindered by her own need to try and act somewhat respectful. Part of her hoping that maybe someday she could speak to Dave again and ask him how the hell he had ever dealt with her shit day in and day out. “Ha ha. Very funny Bayley. You may have missed your calling as a comedian.”

 

“Maybe I did. So what’s your name?” Bayley asked the girl sitting next to Becky, beaming at her.

 

The little girl looked up at Bayley and smiled back at her. Instantly comfortable around the woman like she was magic. “Elizabeth. But my mom and all my friends call me Lizzie.”

 

Becky watched the interaction with a raised eyebrow. Amazed at how easily Bayley had gotten the girl to open up and look away from her phone for more than a second.

 

“Hi Lizzie, I’m Bayley. My friends call me...ah...well, Bayley. And in her head right now, Becky is calling me things that you aren’t allowed to say in her class,” she told the girl a with a confiding the grin, eliciting a giggle.

 

Becky rushed to defend herself but stumbled out of the blocks. “Am not!” Immediately realizing how petulant and childish she sounded and trying to save face. “In fact, I’m perfectly calm right now. I just wanted to know if you would want to hang out with us while we wait for Lizzie’s mom tonight.” Silently pleading the other woman not to leave her alone.

 

“See? She said that SO calmly!” Bayley said with a grin as sat on Lizzie’s other side and nudged the girl with her elbow. She’d half noticed Becky interacting with the girl while she’d been writing and had seen how dramatically different interacting with the child had been out of the ring for Becky. The remark made Lizzie giggle again as she shot a quick glance over at Becky.

 

Several deep breaths later and Becky felt like she could speak without raising her voice above normal. Meeting Lizzie gaze and addressing her rather than Bayley. “She is starting to damage my calm.”

 

“If she starts turning green you’ll protect me right?” Bayley asked Lizzie, sounding completely earnest. When she got a solemn nod Bayley laughed and then pointed at Lizzie's phone and asked: “What were you playing?”

 

Becky was beginning to feel like a third wheel already and jumped in to answer. “She said it was pubge or something like that.” Knowing that she was mispronouncing the name by the look both of them shot her.

 

Bayley gave Becky a pitying look before looking down at Lizzie and saying, in a despairing tone: “Casuals…what can you do?” She then thought for a moment and said: “I’m not much for PUBG myself, I dipped into Fortnite but I prefer solo gaming.”

 

The two’s discussion devolved into something about some type of old western thing - Becky had never been a big fan of those old movies so she tuned them out.

 

As the minutes crept by Becky looked down at her phone and saw that it was getting worryingly late with no sign of the girl’s mom. She checked back in and interrupted their discussion on what she could surmise was about hunting or some similar sort of activity. “Hey, Lizzie could I use your phone and give your mum a call quick? Just want to ask her when she might be here.”

 

The young girl agreed and threw her phone at Becky. Informing her that all she had to do was press the big green button. Speaking to her the way one would their grandparent who had never used a smartphone before.

 

Becky sucked it up and ignored the words. Quickly calling the mother only to get no answer and being sent straight to voicemail. A frown deepened across her lips as she handed the phone back to the girl and looked at the other adult in the room. “No answer. I think her mom’s phone might have died on her since it went straight to voicemail.”

 

Bayley had to work hard to keep from rolling her eyes. What kind of adult announced that sort of thing? Sighing inwardly she kept her smile on and said: “Her loss, my best friend Lizzie is going to take me into the ring and show me a thing or two right?” She finished by raising her eyebrows at the little girl.

 

Lizzie readily agreed and went off with Bayley. Leaving Becky behind to skulk after them.

 

She leaned against the ring apron on the floor as she watched the two interact inside. An unbidden smile making its way onto her lips from seeing how easily Bayley got along with the young girl.

 

After a few minutes with Becky occasionally shouting out words of encouragement to Lizzie as she and Bayley mock fought within the ring the door burst open.

 

Becky turned towards the noise and was a bit stunned by the sight of Lizzie’s mother. Never having seen the woman before since she would always be waiting in the parking lot right after the other practices.

 

She was tall with long blonde hair and a face that seemed ageless. If Becky was forced to bet on how old she actually was she would have to say maybe 35 or so.

 

The woman wore skin tight athletic gear that showed off how ridiculously in shape she was and Becky had to fight not to lose herself in the woman’s cleavage. Her old habit of flirting with anything that had a pulse coming back up out of reflex. “Who might you be? I know you can’t be Lizzie’s mom though. I didn’t know she had an older sister.”

 

The blonde giggled at Becky’s horrible pickup line. “Well, I actually am her mother believe it or not. I got caught up at my work and then my phone just went from thirty percent to empty in a second.”

 

Becky continued to smile at the woman. “Could I have a name to put to the face? I’d hate to keep calling you ‘Lizzie’s mom’.” Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. Flashing her brightest fake smile and falling back into her old persona for a bit.

 

Bayley had heard the doors fly open with the force of a breaching SWAT team and assumed the blonde woman who had hurried through was Lizzie’s mother. She’d then watched with bemused interest as Becky had made a beeline for the blonde and now seemed to be chatting her up. Seemingly forgetting the reason why she’d come in the first place.

 

Unfortunately, this lapse of concentration earned her a solid punch in the stomach that nearly folded her over.

 

Charlotte yawned as she slowly walked down the stairs. Pulling on a pair of reading glasses for her tired eyes as she peered down at the file in her hands. Circling the name Bliss, Alexa and highlighting her amongst several other names.

 

She reached the bottom of the stairwell just in time to see Bayley take a shot to the stomach that clearly stunned her, though she did her best to not show it.

 

With a small smile on her face, she walked a little further into the room. The smile quickly dipping off her face and being replaced with a scowl as she spotted Becky across the room talking up some tall blonde. Watching on as Becky raised a hand and wrapped it around the blonde’s bicep as she flexed. Rolling her eyes at Becky confirming yet again exactly why she shouldn’t even consider the woman as an actual romantic option.

 

“Well done there Captain Falcon,” Bayley grunted as she rubbed at her stomach.

 

“Oh my god! You smash too?!” Lizzie exclaimed.

 

“You’re coming up on the age when you’re going to want to be careful about how and when you use the phraseology,” Bayley said in a still strained voice. When the girl looked confused she just waved her away and then beckoned for her to follow. They made their way out of the ring and over to where Becky was talking animatedly with Lizzie’s mom. Bayley noticed the Irish woman’s voice lifted an octave suddenly. When they were a few feet away, still ignored, she cleared her throat loudly.

 

Becky froze and turned around at the intrusion. Her eyes momentarily widening when she looked down and saw the reason for why this woman was here. Bashfully rubbing the back of her head and avoiding the look she knew Bayley would be giving her. “Hey girls. Umm Bayley this is Lizzie’s mother, Torrie Wilson. Torrie this is Bayley. My very own resident Clark Kent.”

 

“Bayley Martinez, I’m a reporter,” Bayley introduced herself as she shook Torrie’s hand.

 

“Mom you should have seen it. I punched Bayley so hard.” Lizzie spoke up with excitement and glee. “She even made a noise like-” Doing her best to mimic the air being forced out of her.

 

Becky laughed for a second before Bayley visually scolded her. Closing her mouth quickly and looking away.

 

“Well, one punch woman, you just see if I ever actually help you with that English homework you mentioned,” Bayley said even as she gave the girl an affectionate side hug.

 

Torrie smiled at the pair, “Thanks for keeping my daughter company but we really should be going. It’s a school night and Lizzie needs to get to bed soon.”

 

“I can walk you out to your car if you’d like.” Becky offered. “You never know what creeps could be out there waiting for you and Lizzie.”

 

Bayley made a strangled sort of choking noise that might have been a laugh at this remark. When they turned to look at her she waved it away by adding a few more, much less authentic sounding, cough.

 

Torrie looked at Bayley with a grin for a moment before she turned her attention back to Becky. “Thanks for the offer but I think I can handle myself.” Opening her purse and showing off a shiny six-shooter inside.

 

Becky held her hand up in joking surrender. “I think I get the point. Have a nice night Ms. Wilson. You have an amazing daughter.”

 

Torrie thanked her and went back out the front door with Lizzie at her side. Leaving the gym behind.

 

“Sooooooo….she seemed nice,” Bayley said in a sing-song kind of way.

 

Becky groaned. “Don’t say anything.” Turning around and walking towards the stairs. Trying her best to avoid any sort of real conversation right now.

 

“Can I sing it? Becky and Torre sitting in a tree...K-I-S-S-I-”

 

Becky raised the middle finger on both hands high in the sky and yelled out. “Fuck off Bayley! I’m not listening anymore.” Speeding up her stride and shooting up the stairs in record time.

 

Bayley was making loud kissing noises after her when she noticed Charlotte standing off to one side. Waving she made her way over to the other woman and said: “Oh Becky just being Becky huh?”

 

For just a second Charlotte thought about pretending that she hadn’t been keenly watching Lynch interact with that woman but decided against it. “Yep.” The single word almost sticking in her throat as she tried to act as unaffected by the sight as possible. Shuffling the folder around in her hands just to give them something to do.

 

Bayley was taken aback by this unexpectedly cold reaction. Trying not to let it show too much she asked: “Are you alright?”

 

Charlotte quickly nodded and looked back down at the folder in her hands. Thinking back on an idea she had been kicking around in her head and welcoming the distraction that would come with shop talk. “I’ve actually been thinking that if we could get Lynch to do an interview on camera that we could use that in promoting her and drumming up some more interest in her return fight. It might not be the easiest thing getting her to agree to, but if she knew it was you conducting the interview she might be more accommodating.”

 

Bayley had to quickly adjust to several things in this comment. First, she noted that Charlotte was saying ‘Lynch’ and not ‘Becky’. Second, Charlotte had all but confirmed that there was a planned return fight. Third, this presumably meant that she’d be representing Lynch. Added to these facts was the other woman’s sudden coldness.

 

“Umm, sure? Did you know when and where you wanted to do it?” she asked, more to break the silence than anything.

 

“I’d say the sooner the better. The whole MMA world is still talking about what Banks just did and we could steal some of that attention when the media starts looking for the next story.” Charlotte surmised.

 

“OK…” despite still being put off, some of Bayley’s professionalism was asserting itself “...do you have a camera for me to use or any other equipment?”

 

Charlotte grinned at Bayley seeming to bite on her plan. “My dad knows a guy with more equipment than he knows what to do with. Just get her to agree to a time and date and I will make sure you have a space set up somewhere in the gym.”

 

A problem had occurred to Bayley, though she wasn’t going to bring it up. This sort of thing would require her to have some air-level journalist clothes. All of hers were back in California. Still, the opportunity was too good to pass up. She’d make it work.

 

“Well, how does the day after tomorrow sound? So I can do some preliminary work?” she suggested.

 

“Done. Just make sure Lynch shows up and I will take care of the rest.” Knowing that even though she may technically have more to organize and get ready that Bayley may have the harder task.

 

“We’ll be there.”

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes as she used her thumb to scroll the article on her phone. The more she read the less of her eyes that remained visible. She was reading the first installment of Bayley’s announced series of articles on Becky Lynch and she was not well pleased.

 

“Baby? Are you listening to me?” a voice broke over her thoughts.

 

“What?” she asked, looking up at the other two people at the table.

 

“Aren’t you paying attention?” Zelina Vega whined petulantly. Sasha noticed that since she’d got a ring on her finger she’d been doing more and more of that.

 

“Obviously not,” Sasha growled as she looked back down at her phone.

 

Zelina made a frustrated sound before turning back to her conversation. She and Sasha were meeting with a producer at a swanky restaurant in LA. The meeting was to work out the details of the reality series that would be produced about Sasha and Zelina’s engagement and wedding.

 

Sasha hadn’t ever actually agreed to do the show, merely saying that she’d think about it. But from what little she’d been overhearing of Zelina’s conversation it seemed her fiance had more or less taken her agreement for granted. She thought about protesting but then decided against it. It would lead to one of Zelina’s tantrums and, frankly, Sasha didn’t care much either way.

 

No, her attention was fully engrossed by the article on her phone.

 

Of course, reading anything by Bayley was enough to annoy her these days. Even thinking about her former best friend and...whatever else Bayley had been, was enough to cause storm clouds to gather in Sasha’s heart. Not only had her fake friend had the nerve to go running off to Boston for Becky Lynch but now she was writing shit like this?

 

Sasha Banks was the BOSS. The idea that a woman she’d once loved, and Sasha had always known this privately, was now whoring after some has been was infuriating. And when Sasha Banks was infuriated she rarely stewed, she acted. But she was trying to figure out WHAT she would do.

 

To occupy herself, and to add more fuel to the fire, she continued to read.

 

 _“Becky Lynch, the former Bantamweight Champion of the world, has been humbled as few of us ever are in our lives. But if we can judge the greatness of an achievement by the length of the fall then it would be fair to ask if Lynch might one day have been one of the all-time greats,”_ she continued to read this line over and over. Her lip curling slightly.

 

Becky Lynch an all-time great? Only a stupid fucking moron would think that. She’d been a fake champion when she’d had the belt, and now she was right where she belonged. There were many things Sasha regretted in her life but the fact that Lynch had ever come out of the gutter was among the greatest.

 

 _“Lynch has sought the help of renowned former boxer, Ric Flair. His small combat sports gym tucked away in a quiet corner of South Boston, has been the sight of this most unlikely of career resurrections,”_ She read with mounting irritation.

 

“Oh my god,” Sasha muttered in disgust as she reached for her drink. Finding the beer was empty she looked around the restaurant patio and shouted: “Hey! What the fuck? The amount I pay this damned place I shouldn't ever have an empty glass!”

 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Zelina hissed at her. Sasha waved her away and held her glass up impatiently until a waiter scurried over and filled it.

 

“Oh, um I can come back…” the producer Zelina was talking with said uncertainly. Sasha now remembered his name was Tyler Breeze.

 

“No! No...she’s...my fiance is just tired but we’re all good now...right?” Zelina hurried to assure him before giving Sasha a harsh look.

 

“Whatever,” Sasha murmured into her drink.

 

While Zelina continued her conversation Sasha brooded and continued to look through her phone. She and Teddy had to interview some people later that day, they were still looking to find her a new trainer. This reflection was enough to rekindle some of her dissipated anger over Bayley.

 

Most of her anger at Bobby stemmed from the fact that she knew she’d fucked things up badly. She’d overreacted and made a rash decision. She’d been on the point of trying to call the man dozens of times but each time her anger would rise up and get in the way. Instead of calling to apologize she would tell herself that he needed to be apologizing to her. And that he needed to remember who had made him.

 

She was so lost in these bitter reflections that she almost missed her chance for some payback on the people who had wronged her.

 

“...About locations, we were thinking that we could shoot in Miami, Honolulu, or maybe even here in LA if-” Breeze was saying but Sasha cut him off.

 

“Boston,” she said flatly.

 

“Excuse me?” Breeze asked, startled.

 

“We’re getting married in Boston,” Sasha said slowly and in a dangerous tone of voice.

 

“I...umm...we hadn’t really considered-” Breeze began but Zelina jumped in.

 

“We can’t get married in Boston!-” she started to whine but Sasha glared at her.

 

“I’m FROM Boston, I’m getting married there. That’s that or I’m not paying for it,” Sasha said sharply. She then stood and walked out of the restaurant.

 

Becky Lynch wanted a redemption story? She’d see about that.

 

 

**Bayley/Becky**

 

The bright lights beat down on Becky’s face with a warmth that could be uncomfortable after long periods of time underneath them. For Becky, it was a strange feeling of deja vu. Having been in front of cameras for interviews countless times in her past the feel of the room brought her back in time to when some days she did hours of these interviews in a row without a break.

 

At least this time she had been allowed to do her own makeup and only applied a minimal amount. Not really caring for it much herself but knowing that Charlotte would likely have a fit and get Liv to do her makeup instead.

 

She didn’t hate Liv, in fact, sometimes she almost felt something close to light irritation, which was a miracle in Becky’s mind. But if she had been allowed the free range to make her ‘camera ready’ Becky had no doubt that she would be caked in layers of the stuff. Which had been one of greatest pet peeves during the longer days when she would be baking beneath those lights for hours. Being forced to answer the same questions on a loop to some other journalist who might not even give a shit about MMA or herself.

 

Becky had to admit that Charlotte had spared no expense here. All of the equipment top of the line and very professional.

 

They had been set up in Charlotte’s office. The man who brought them the equipment, a Mr. David Sahadi coming through the building and mentioning that it had a great look for an interview. The window in the background looking down on the gym floor below and the countless pictures, championship belts, and other trinkets that lined the walls in the background.

 

Charlotte had instantly agreed, trusting the man’s opinion, and they were off. Having everything set and ready within an hour.

 

Sahadi would run the camera for Bayley and everything else seemed to be under Charlotte’s control.

 

Becky picked at a tiny rip in her jeans. Nervously picking at the broken strands as she waited in her seat while David and his assistant finished their last checks. Steadying the boom mic overhead and making any last minute adjustments.

 

“Those huli-huli things better be great tonight. You’ve mentioned this ‘Clex’ place multiple times and I swear I am going to be furious with you if I agreed to this interview for shitty food I could find at a Pizza Hut.” Becky spoke up to the woman sitting across from her who had been studiously scanning the sheets she had in hand before the interview started. Unable to stay quiet any longer as her stomach began to turn from nerves in a way it never had before.

 

Bayley didn’t look up from her prep sheets as she said: “First, Clex’s is amazing. I think they expanded internationally to Ireland actually. Two, you’re nervous, that’s fine but try not to be. We’re just talking.”

 

Becky pouted but turned it into a biteless sneer. “I’m not nervous. Done these hundreds of times.” Leaning back into her chair and crossing her legs. “You are the one who should be nervous. This has to be a pretty big get. Eh?”

 

“Oh yes, a disgraced former fighter who is now a part-time janitor,” Bayley said teasingly as she read through her final sheet.

 

“Should I mention the whole Enzo debacle? I’m not the only in the running for the ‘disgraced’ title.” Her words probably a little more biting than she meant, but she felt off. All the lights and attention making her feel uncomfortable rather than how easy it had always been for her before.

 

Bayley looked up with a raised eyebrow and held Becky’s eyes for a moment before saying: “Touche...I’m kind of surprised you heard about that.”

 

Becky returned her attention back to the hole in her jeans. “I may have done some research when Charlotte so politely informed me that you would be coming in.” Picking a loose strand off and letting it fall to the ground. “Would have been nice if she asked before giving you the all clear. But I’m totally not bitter at all about it.”

 

Bayley reached over and gently moved Becky’s hand away from her jeans. She knew she was speaking more to Becky’s nerves than Becky herself so she decided to try and lighten the mood a bit. “Well, look at it this way. If you screw this up badly and ruin your career in MMA forever you always have a fallback option.”

 

There was a very small list of people who could get away with touching Becky and she just managed to stop herself from snatching her hand back right away. She let out a laugh at her fri- aquantaince’s joke and felt some of her nerves lift away.

 

She had almost never really known the faces that interviewed her in the past so having Bayley around might make this first step back a little easier.

 

“Always looking on the bright side.”

 

Before Bayley responded David quickly informed them that they were ready whenever the two were.

 

“How do I look?” Bayley asked Becky quickly as she settled into her chair. She’d mostly internalized the informal rules that governed how female journalists ought to dress on camera. But she’d decided that in this case, she’d violate one of the big ones. Instead of the usual ‘safe’ colors, she’d opted for a yellow long sleeve dress. Yellow being her favorite colors.

 

Becky gave her an exaggerated once over and flashed an ‘a-ok’ gesture. “Like one of Ireland’s most expensive women of the night.” Smiling brightly as she cheekily winked at the reporter.

 

“Well I suppose I’ll have to defer to your expertise there,” Bayley said wryly as she put the finishing touches on her look. Namely, pulling her hair up into its trademark side pony. Turning to David she asked: “Count me down?”

 

The man gave her a quick nod, before checking everything one more time and starting to countdown. “5-4-3…” Going silent and counting down the rest of the way silently. Ticking each second off on his finger before pointing at Bayley and giving her the all clear to start.

 

Smiling into the camera Bayley began to speak: “Hello friends, this is Bayley Martinez with an MMAyley.com exclusive interview. Joining me today is former Brawl for All World Bantamweight Champion Rebecca Quinn aka Becky Lynch. Becky, how are you today?”

 

Becky shifted slightly in her seat. “Doin’ alright. Another day. Ya know?”

 

“ _C’mon Becky give me something_ ,” Bayley thought to herself, though her expression never changed. Moving to her first question, the one designed to set a tone early in the interview, she asked: “So, Becky, after your now famous loss to Sasha Banks you went through a very public rough patch that culminated in you disappearing from the public eye for many months. Could you tell the viewers what that time was like and where you went?”

 

She had known that this question was coming but she still felt ill-prepared to answer it. A fleeting moment where her eyes darted towards the door brought her gaze to settle for just a second on Charlotte who was looming, and ever-present, in the background. Watching Becky’s every move with barely concealed worry.

 

Becky gulped around the lump in her throat and looked back towards the woman sitting across from her. “It sucked… A lot. Sorry. I’m putting it lightly, but I’d rather not swear right now. Wouldn’t want anyone getting all offended.” Sending a small smirk at Charlotte and gaining a little of her confidence back when she saw the blonde roll her eyes at the obvious dig. “My life fell apart because I was being an idiot. I lost the trust of all my friends and teammates. Got addicted to pills for a bit. Had a horrible sham of a relationship with a woman who’d rather jump on the next girl then deal with me anymore by the end. Went to rehab and here I am.” Holding her arms up with a forced half smile on her face. “Living the dream.”

 

Bayley knew these next few questions wouldn’t be pleasant on her friend, but she knew she had to ask them for both of their sakes. For herself because if she didn’t this interview would be dismissed as a puff piece. And Becky, because she needed to face down these demons.

 

“You touched briefly on your relationship with Carmella Dale, as I’m sure you know she recently released a book detailing your time together. Did you ever have any inkling this kind of thing could happen and if you could, what would you say to her now?” Bayley asked as she stared directly into Becky’s eyes.

 

Becky didn’t really want to talk about it but she figured that would be the case for most of these questions and she tried not to hold it against the other woman for doing her job. “I never really planned on anything back then. The only thing that really mattered was fighting and once that was taken from me I didn’t really care what would happen tomorrow.” Pausing and picking at her jeans for a second before she caught herself and wrapped her hand tightly around the armrest. “I’d rather not talk to her for the rest of my life if I could avoid it. But if I was forced to, the only thing I would say would be, ‘Fuck off and choke on a dick’.”

 

Bayley had to work very hard to keep from smiling at this answer. Deciding it was time to move on she pivoted: “Let’s talk about the other aspect of your life before the injury, your in-cage life. You’ve hinted at how important that was to your sense of identity. It must have been very jarring to hear how severe the injury was. At the time many outlets, including this site, were reporting that it might be career ending. Could you take us through what you were thinking and feeling at that time?”

 

The somewhat hazy memories came flooding back in. Those first months after the injury being mostly a blur as every day seemed to run into the next. Pain, drugs, and Carmella being her holy trinity at the time and what her life had revolved around. “I can’t tell you what I was thinking because I don’t think I had a sane thought for months afterward. As for what I was feeling…” Becky trailed off and her eyes glassed over for a second. The old pathways she had worked so hard to repave etched too deeply to ever fully be gone. She shook her head and blinked several times before any tears could make their traitorous way out. “Every day felt like my own personal hell. Trapped in a body that wouldn’t listen to me anymore. It was easier to just distract myself than spend a minute alone.”

 

Bayley wanted to reach out and squeeze the other woman’s arm but she knew she couldn’t. Instead, she recrossed her legs and asked her next question: “Your rehab, how did it go early on? What made you walk away from it? And how is it going now?”

 

Becky welcomed the change in topic. “A few people may have told me I’m stubborn.” Stopping for a second when she heard Charlotte snort off-screen. Shooting her a mean look before remembering she was on camera. “I missed most of my sessions because I was hungover or too busy fucking Carmella to care. As soon as I could walk with crutches I was pushing myself too hard. Re-injured the damn thing twice and set myself back months. At a certain point, I just gave up on ever getting back to where I was before and was content just being able to walk normally. I’ve actually had some good progress in the last week or so and am feeling like I’m at about 80% what I used to be. I should probably give Liv a shoutout otherwise she will kill me in the next session, but she does actually know her stuff. Every day I’m getting a little bit better. Just a few weeks ago I would have probably said 65%.”

 

“You’re referring to Liv Morgan, a trainer here at the Flair gym?” Bayley prompted.

 

“Yea. The tiny little pipsqueak otherwise known as Livvie. She might not look like much but she kicks my ass every day.” Becky supplied.

 

“Who else have you been working with since you came to Boston?”

 

“Liv’s girlfriend Ruby would be the main one. Although she’s brought in a few local fighters in to do some work on occasion. Even lil ol’ Charlie Brown has stepped in a few times with advice I didn’t ask for.”

 

“And Charlie Brown is…?”

 

Becky gave Bayley a tiny smile. “Only the pain in my ass that makes every day so much more enjoyable. Better known as Charlotte Flair.”

 

“Now we’ve heard about who you’ve been working with here in Boston but we haven’t yet addressed the larger issue. What brought you out here to Boston?” Bayley asked. She didn’t know the full story on this herself so she was as eager as her viewers would be to hear the answer.

 

“Someone gave me this address and said I should go there and check it out. I’d been sober for a while but didn’t have any real prospects or plans at the time so I thought, ‘what the hell’ and made my way out here. I guess Ric has a soft spot for lost causes and pitied me enough to give me a chance.” Becky absentmindedly began to pick at the hole in her jeans once again.

 

“Someone?” Bayley asked the question that everyone would want to be answered.

 

“Never figured out who sent it. Didn’t much care to find out. I was desperate and just looking for something that would give me a place to live and maybe get a few bucks.” Purposefully not mentioning the initials that had been on the bottom of the note.

 

Bayley sensed there was more here but she also knew a stonewall when she found one. Pressing wouldn’t accomplish anything, yet. So she pivoted once more to a different tack. “Since I’ve been out here I’ve seen you training very hard. The assumption seems to have been that you are working toward a return to the pro scene. Is that true and if so, how close do you think you are?”

 

“It’s my goal as of now. I don’t have any fight lined up and I haven’t gotten in touch with any of the higher ups yet, but I think the world needs to be reminded of who ruled that division before Banks.” Becky’s confidence and old persona started to come back as she gained steam. “I admit that she got the better of me that night, but for years I strapped that division to my back and carried it. Beating everyone that came my way. Even on my worst day I still went out there and fought to keep what is rightfully MY belt.” Leaning forward with a manic energy dancing behind her eyes. “So now I want to go out there and earn my way back to the title. Whoever feels like they deserve a shot before me should step up. I don’t care who. I don’t care if my knee is perfect anymore. I just want to get back out there and show the world that I am Becky FUCKING Lynch and I’m done hiding.”

 

Bayley had to allow herself a small smile at this lest she start laughing. After a moment she composed herself and said: “That’s a very strong statement, but it dovetails nicely into my next question. Celtic Combat Sports continues to be one of the gold standards of the sport. Finn Balor has held his title for over a year now and Nikki Cross, viewed by many as YOUR replacement, has been making a name for herself in the division. Would you like the chance to face Nikki Cross at some point?”

 

Becky froze for a moment. Caught between her old loyalty and the hope that one day she could possibly reconcile with her old family, and the reality that they had moved on and so should she. She was glad that her voice didn’t waver as she discussed the still open wound. “If she thinks that she is better than me I’d love a chance to show her otherwise.”

 

“Very strong words. Now, two final questions for you Becky. First, as you mentioned the current Champion is Sasha Banks and she has been dominant since talking that title. How do you see yourself matching up with her now?” Bayley asked.

 

Becky thought back on Sasha’s last fight and fought to hold back a grimace. Not wanting to show outwardly that she was in any way intimidated by the other woman. “I knew Paige a little bit back in the day and while she is a good fighter she wasn’t ready for Banks. Last fight I made a mistake and I will admit that I underestimated her. I won’t make the same mistake again. As for how we match up all I can tell you is that I will tear my own knee apart all over again to beat the insufferable piece of shit.”

 

Bayley never let her mask shift in the slightest during her question or Becky’s subsequent answer. But on the inside, she was in turmoil. Even talking about Sasha was enough to cause this, yet why should it? Sasha had made her wishes clear so why was Bayley so caught up in the past? She pushed this down angrily in time to ask her final question.

 

“I’d like to close on a different note, Becky. You’ve given the viewers and I some strong statements, the statements of a fighter. But I know you were in the program and I know part of that is making amends. So I’d like to ask you. Are there are any people out there who might see this who you’d like to apologize to?” Bayley asked gently.

 

Becky felt like she had made it through the interview relatively smoothly up till this point. She stared off into nothing right behind Bayley’s head as she answered. Her voice noticeably more robotic and measured than her previous comments. “That is probably a longer list than we have time for today.” Taking a deep breath and forcing out, “But I will say that I’m sorry for a lot of what I did back then and even more recently.” Her eyes momentarily seeking out Charlotte and finding her nowhere to be found. “You know who you are…”

 

Bayley thought for a moment about pushing a bit on this but decided against it. The answer was better as is.

 

“Becky Lynch, thank you so much for your time. If you liked this interview I’d be so thrilled if you’d take the time to like and follow MMAyley.com on all your favorite social media platforms. A special thanks to Ric Flair’s Combat Sport’s Gym and our hostess Charlotte Flair in particular. This is Bayley Martinez of MMAyley.com signing off.”

 

She nodded once at David and when he gave her a thumbs up she slumped back in her chair.

 

“Aye Dios mio,” she muttered as she closed her eyes for a few seconds, an enormous amount of tensions she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying releasing inside her chest. When she opened her eyes she turned to Becky and asked: “Not bad for a first time right?”

 

Becky had been holding her breath but it released in a rush. “First time?” Holding back a more sexually explicit comment that she was sure would just make Bayley give her another look.

 

Bayley gave her friend a quizzical look as she answered: “I’m a PRINT journalist Becky, why would I have done an on-screen interview?”

 

Charlotte had been slowly making her way back inside the office after leaving to answer a call. She was about the congratulate Bayley on the interview going smoothly as could be expected with Lynch in the mix and overheard the last comment. Her eyes comically bugging out. “What!?! You’d never done an on-camera interview?” The realization that she had just gambled on Bayley without knowing it hitting her.

 

Bayley looked bemused at this question. “Like I told Becky, I’m a writer…” she said slowly. She saw that this did nothing to mollify Charlotte so she added: “I’ve been the interviewee a few times but...I thought you knew?”

 

Becky grinned in amusement as she witnessed Charlotte being caught off guard for the first time. A chink in normally stalwart armor showing. “Did Charlie actually not know something for once? I’m shocked! The press should be made aware of this breaking news.”

 

Her response from the blonde was a stern and unamused glare. “Well, I’d say it turned out great. Maybe you should inform them that I have great instincts.”

 

“That’s a nice way to say you had no idea and lucked out.”

 

“Well, you didn’t exactly show yourself that well. We are going to have to get some editor to take out all the swearing.”

 

“Boo-hoo Charlie. Cry me a river.”

 

Charlotte started to actually get irritated. “Stop calling me Charlie! It is Charlotte or Ms. Flair if you insist on being such a pain in my side.”

 

Becky sensed that she was getting to the blonde and was about to really start in before she was reminded that they weren’t the only people in the room.

 

“Uh, ladies. Maybe you two can kill each other later. We need to get working on this interview and I’d appreciate it if someone could take me to the store I got this dress from in...well...like right now before they close,” Bayley said, standing up between the two women.

 

“I can take ya.” Becky offered. Taking one last swipe at the blonde. “Charlie will let me borrow her car so that she can stay here and work all night since she has no life. That right Charlie?”

 

“GIRLS!...” Bayley stepped in, more loudly this time “...I need to return this dress! It’s stupidly expensive and I can’t really afford it!” As she walked off she muttered something like ‘ _estupidas gringas_ ’ to herself.

 

Both women looked noticeably admonished and avoided looking at each other. “Take care of it ok,” Charlotte said. Holding her keys out with apprehension but wanting this whole scenario to be over and dealt with.

 

Becky nodded and snatched the keys away. Flinching slightly as her fingers brushed against Charlotte’s long and slender digits.

 

She nearly ran out of the room and tripped over the various wires crossing the floor but managed to avoid disaster. Holding up the keys in triumph as she walked towards the brunette. “Let’s get going. Wouldn’t want that dress to go to waste. Although I can think of a better place I would rather see it.” Wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at the reporter.

 

“You are just a walking potential sexual harassment suit aren’t you?” Bayley laughed.

 

“I didn’t get the reputation for nothing.” Becky cockily mentioned. “Although I do remember something about food tonight?”

 

Rolling her eyes Bayley nodded: “Yes it’s on me. But ONLY if you get me to the store to return this damn thing before it closes. I don’t think they’ll take it back tomorrow.”

 

Becky wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the woman by the elbow and pushing her towards the exit. “No time to waste then. Get your ass moving. Things just got serious.”

 

Managing to snag her bag containing her spare outfit as she was hustled past Bayley found herself in the passenger seat of Charlotte’s car a few moments later. As Becky began to drive Bayley felt her own stomach grumble. She realized then that she hadn’t eaten yet that day.

 

“This should be fun, I love Clex’s. But…” she looked down at her phone “...someone called ‘VegasNurse18’ left a really bad review on their SPAM musubi so...maybe give that a pass.”

  
  
  
  
  
****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends
> 
> As many of you know "Perseverance" began as the brainchild of my good buddy KrashlyPride who has since taken a step back from Ao3. I miss writing with her like crazy and I've received messages from several of you wondering what happened. Well, just for you I have a special message from Krash herself!
> 
> "I just want you all to know I am happy, safe and that the bottom line is I love you all. I appreciate every kudo, comment, view and all the friends I made. They meant so much to me, more than I could ever express. Remember to live your dreams and that you aren't alone. The world needs you. Also maybe keep an eye out for my best selling novel someday"
> 
> I for one intend to buy that book!
> 
> Now, before we get to today's chapter I have two recommendations for you all!
> 
> 1\. Did you know you needed a well written and gripping Sin City Style thriller featuring the WWE crew? I didn't until I read "Music to Watch Girls To" by my amazingly talented friend RileySavage7. Give yourselves the treat of heading over to her works now and AFTER she's blown your mind make sure to bookmark all the works you find! Say that we sent you! The link is here:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163665/chapters/40356104
> 
> 2\. The main reason why I never just ended Perseverance, and why it is now back, was you our amazing readers. Many of you asked for it to return (Clex probably cried a bunch) and here it is. One of you amazing humans is iiconic_fangirl and she has written her very own MMA-WWE fic. I encourage everyone to go over there and blow her up with kudos, comments, and of course bookmarks! Find the link here:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290682/chapters/40666625
> 
> Now, onto today's chapter. Damn, these are not getting any shorter are they? Goose and I each take like page just to clear our throat! But I hope you like it for all that. All of our girls can't seem to get fully out of their own way can they? Is Becky risking a 'personality relapse' back into 'Boss' land? Will Charlotte ever be able to let herself relax? Can Bayley find a way to be happy in her new world? Will Sasha ever come back to herself?
> 
> Remember to make it rain kudos, comments, and bookmarks!
> 
> Thanks for Reading!


	7. Chapter 7: Fighting With Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky gets a fight  
> Bayley tries so hard to help  
> Charlotte finds some gaps in her walls  
> Sasha continues to spiral deeper into her 'Boss' persona

**Bayley**

 

Bayley was once again staring at a camera, though this time she was talking with someone she couldn’t see. This wasn’t a sign of encroaching madness. She was just on ESPN.

 

 _“There’s everyone’s favorite girl with a side ponytail, Bayley Martinez of MMAyley.com, Bayley how are you today?”_ the voice of Montel Porter asked in her ear.

 

“I’m great Montel! And let’s be honest man, no matter what they say, everyone loves a girl with a side pony right?” she answered as she flashed her most winning smile at the camera.

 

_“I’ve got a studio full of folks here and it seems like half the ladies are nodding and the other half are shaking their heads!”_

 

“They’ll come around,” Bayley said with a wink.

 

_“So the big story in the world of MMA, really the ONLY story since the Banks-Paige fight, was your recent interview with Becky Lynch. I want to get to that in a second but I think you know what we have to touch on first,”_

 

Bayley felt her stomach churn but she kept her smile in place as she said: “Gee, I wonder”

 

_“Well, you gotta admit there is CURRENTLY only one topic in the MMA world and maybe sports in general. For those who haven’t see the incredible video yet why don’t we show it here…”_

 

There was a pause where the video was shown for the viewers. Bayley’s stomach churned as she thought about it. She knew what Porter had been referring to. It would be one of the dozens of cellphone videos of a large black SUV coming to a tire-screeching halt in the parking lot of the Flair Gym. A moment later it would show Sasha Banks, dressed in full ‘boss’ rig dropping to the ground and marching up the back of the crowd of assembled reporters.

 

Bayley had been there that day, standing quietly off to one side with a few reporters she knew. Despite the Flair Gym’s humble circumstances the news that there would be a big announcement involving Becky Lynch had been enough to draw media from across the country. Though Bayley had been grateful that Mandy Rose herself hadn’t chosen to show.

 

From this privileged view, Bayley had been able to watch the whole slow trainwreck.

 

After almost a minute of silence, Porter’s voice came back in Bayley’s ear: _“Some real soap opera stuff right there. Now you were present at the time Bayley, what was your reaction when you saw this happening.”_

Bayley had to think for a while before she answered this. Her true reaction wasn’t one she cared to share with anyone, much less a national TV audience. “Well we all saw Banks’ fight with Paige and I guess my gut was saying ‘oh god what now?’” she finally said.

 

_“You did a well-known interview piece with Banks early in your career. I know you’ve been asked this before but did you see any signs of the Sasha Banks we have now all the way back then?”_

 

“No, I can honestly say I didn’t…” Bayley said. She knew this wasn’t a good TV answer so she added: “...But I suppose we as a culture are a bit to blame here aren’t we? The audience eats these kinds of stunts up and until that isn’t true I guess we’ll see more and more of them.”

 

_“Speaking of reactions, we all saw Charlotte Flair’s reaction during the video and then we saw her manage to pull Banks to one side later on, can you give us any insight into what was said there?”_

 

“Man, I wish I could. Charlotte didn’t tell me what they talked about but, as I’m sure you could guess, she was not pleased by the whole situation,” Bayley said.

 

_“One major reaction that we haven’t heard yet is that of Becky Lynch herself. We didn’t actually see her at the press conference that was about her. You have, so far, had almost exclusive access to her from the media. Do you know why that decision was made and did Flair’s move to send someone to lock the doors to the gym when Sasha arrived have anything to do with her?”_

 

“I can’t say definitively of course but if I had to guess I’d say it was an effort to shield her new fighter from the kind of media circus that could create negative pressure on her. I think they both want Becky to just stay focused on her training and rehab,”

 

_“Come on Martinez, there’s gotta be more there,” Porter teased._

 

Bayley deflected the prompt with a smile saying: “Well, if there is, you know I’ll be happy to bring it to you.”

 

_“GREAT answer, very Popovich. Now, let’s talk about Becky Lynch herself…”_

 

**Charlotte**

 

Charlotte found herself glued to the television as she watched someone she had grown to think of as a close friend talk about the situation that had developed around what was supposed to be a moment of good press that could help Lynch gain back some of the public goodwill she lost.

 

She had been worried about how it would go but Bayley was doing a great job of answering.

 

Even though she didn’t want to admit that it mattered to her personally how she came across, Bayley’s answer made her happy on a personal and professional level.

 

She had started to relax when the woman who was now officially a fighter under her management was mentioned. Any calm she had, gone in an instant.

 

“As someone who, I assume, has seen Lynch back in the ring can you give us your honest assessment of just where she is at from a strictly fighting perspective? Taking out any of the other concerns. Is Becky Lynch actually back OR is this a Ronda situation?” Porter asked.

 

“You know I’m glad you framed the question that way Montel. I’ve had more people than I can remember ask me in person or via social media if Becky Lynch is ‘back’. The point I want to emphasize is that at her peak, when she was champion, Becky Lynch was transcendentally talented. She was easily one of the best in the world at quickly approaching ‘all-time’ status. Now she’s been working very hard on her return but I don’t think it’s quite fair to expect her to be ‘back’. She may never reach that same level again and yet still come back as a damned good fighter.”

 

Charlotte had been wondering how Bayley would navigate the question. Knowing the other woman well enough to know that she wouldn’t give anything less than an honest, if not slightly optimistic answer and was proven correct.

 

_“Going off your last point there; Her horrifying knee injury is obviously a massive part of her story. We’ve seen countless stories of athletes in all different sports who suffer a devastating injury and come back a shell of their former selves. How do you see Becky Lynch dealing with it?”_

 

_“I think the best way to look at Becky’s current situation would be like an explosive running back who's had an ACL tear. That player might come back and be productive but they’ll have to do it in a different way. The same way that running back won’t have all their former explosiveness, Becky won’t have all her former mobility. She doesn’t have the ability to get herself out of jams with athleticism anymore so she needs to be smarter and more efficient about how she moves around the ring. As in all sports, we know that one of the toughest things after an injury is learning to trust that limb or that joint again and I will say that I think she’s made great progress there.”_

 

_“Eloquent and knowledgeable as always. Now I have to ask you one more question before we lose you. Just fifteen minutes ago TMZ was able to get a statement from Becky Lynch’s former friend and current champion Finn Balor. When he was asked about Lynch’s fight announcement he said, and I quote, “I want to wish her the best. Hopefully, she can get out of her own way. Maybe... I don’t know if I’d believe it till I see it.” End quote. Any comments on his words?”_

_Bayley knew she had only seconds to think about her answer here. She hadn’t actually heard this and she had a lot of factors to consider. Clearing her throat she said: “Becky Lynch, and she’ll tell you this herself, was and is an addict. She’s been very candid about that with me. As such, and as someone who has gone through the program, she knows that some bridges stay burned. I believe that she would sincerely like to make amends but I also believe that she has accepted that, when it comes to the CCS team, she might not be able to. As for ‘getting out of her own way’ I’d say that since she’s here she’s been doing OK at that so far._

 

Charlotte’s hadn’t hear Finn’s response either but she was impressed by Bayley’s ability to spin a potential flare up and obvious attempt to drag up some drama.

 

As Porter concluded the interview and gave a brief goodbye to Bayley he began to move on to the next topic and she could finally breathe a bit easier.

 

This whole situation with Lynch had ended up putting far more on her plate than she initially thought. Stress piling up as she tried to juggle multiple roles at once.

 

Lynch herself was enough of a problem to deal with. Add on keeping up with the gym’s financials and her efforts to renovate the gym so that it ready for the increased attentions and Charlotte couldn’t help feeling stretched too far.

 

She looked down at the files on her desk and considered her options.

 

Her brain seemed to fizzle and start to wander back to the interview. Inevitably bringing her thoughts back to Lynch and the way she had reacted to Sasha’s little stunt after finding out and realizing that Charlotte had locked down the gym to keep her away from the champ.

 

**Charlotte**

 

Everyone had been awkwardly trying to avoid looking like they were watching the stairs up to Becky’s room and Charlotte had enough.

 

Needless to say the press conference hadn’t gone exactly to plan and Charlotte was left to deal with the aftermath of Sasha’s actions. The letter in her pocket weighing as much as her worry for how the Irish woman was dealing with the events.

 

Becky had ranted and raved as soon as she realized what Charlotte had Ruby done.

 

Charlotte had tried to calmly explain why keeping Becky and Sasha away from each other was the smart thing to do and didn’t apologize for locking the gym doors from the outside.

 

Becky hadn’t agreed.

 

She had stormed upstairs after pushing over a rack of dumbells in a fit of anger. Slamming her door shut so harshly that some of the pictures hung on the wall shifted off center.

 

That had been almost six hours ago and Lynch still hadn’t exited her self imposed exile.

 

Charlotte was at the end of her rope and didn’t want to go up herself. That would be admitting that she was worried and would only end in a fight.

 

The problem was that Charlotte WAS worried about Becky personally after seeing how she had taken the news.

 

Betrayal may as well been painted on the Irish woman’s face in big bold red letters.

 

The face had stuck with her all day and try as she might to not, Charlotte felt a pang in her chest that was unavoidable. Although she did manage to avoid thinking about why the frozen image in her mind made her almost physically sick.

 

She looked across the gym and had an idea of who could maybe get Becky out of her room. Unfortunately it was likely also the other person most affected by Sasha’s actions today.

 

Even though a part of her wanted to go up those stairs herself, the other side won out and here she was waiting for someone else to deal with Becky.

 

A tiny voice in the back of her head saying only one word about her choice. **‘Coward.’**

 

**Bayley**

 

It had been a very VERY stressful day.

 

Bayley had done her best to try and focus after the incident at the press conference but it had been no good. She’d always know that Sasha was impulsive, recklessly so. But she’d never thought of her as being cruel. Yet, shoved in her bag, was evidence that she might have been wrong.

 

Bayley obviously hadn’t been present for the conversation between Charlotte and Sasha but she’d seen it from a distance. She’d been as interested as anyone when she’d seen Sasha shove an envelope into the taller woman’s chest. She’d thought Charlotte might tell her about it later, she hadn’t been expecting for the envelope to be FOR her.

 

“She said to give this to you,” Charlotte had told Bayley in an annoyed tone of voice after the press conference. Before Bayley could respond the blonde had vanished into the gym. Bayley had looked around to make sure none of the other media were paying attention before she too had ducked inside. Making a beeline toward the men’s locker room she’d sat down on a bench and torn open the envelope.

 

She’d had no real idea what she might find. Some small part of her held out the absurd hope that it might be an apology letter. But that hope had been obliterated the second she’d withdrawn the envelope’s contents.

 

It was a wedding invitation.

 

Had Bayley been slapped she would have felt less stunned. Sasha had to know that, despite their recent fights, Bayley would have always cared for her. But she would also know how devastating her proposal to Zelina would have been. To do this was...cruel. There was no other word for it.

 

And she knew she couldn’t take the easy way out here. She couldn’t just tell herself that Zelina had done this. She might have contributed but it wasn’t her. Sasha Banks did NOTHING that she didn’t want to, no one drove her to do anything. If she’d done this, it had been because SHE had wanted to.

 

Bayley was not the type who cried often, almost never in fact. But she did then. For a long time she let silent tears fall onto the bench. She was crying not so much about the invitation itself, but over what had been...and what might have been. When she emerged from the locker room however, after thoroughly checking herself in the mirror, she was totally under control.

 

Despite her composure, that was it for her work day. She tried to focus on her surroundings, on writing a story, even on idle chat with Morgan and Riott. Nothing really helped. Eventually, around eight, she decided that enough was enough. She was just heading toward the door when someone called her name.

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

“Bayley wait up!” Charlotte called out when she spotted the reporter heading out for the night. A part of her knew it wasn’t fair to ask Bayley this after Sasha’s gift earlier, but Charlotte needed to know what Becky was up to. “You holding up?” She asked.

 

 _“Hijo de puta!”_ Bayley muttered as she let her shoulders sagged. Taking a deep breath she turned around, forcing a smile onto her face as she did (though she was unsure why). “I’m...OK…” she said, that was all she could muster at the moment.

 

Charlotte took one look at Bayley and could tell that she was anything other than ok right now. As much as she wanted to offer some comfort she didn’t feel like she would be that effective with her mind preoccupied. “Say that with some real enthusiasm and I may almost believe it.” She lightly teased. Trying to put herself and the other woman at ease before she asked what she really wanted.

 

Bayley tried, she really did, but all she could muster was a weak sort of quiver of the corner of her mouth by way of a smile. Sighing she admitted defeat and let her shoulders slump as she said: “We’ll have to do another table read later.”

 

Seeing Bayley so beaten down almost made Charlotte reconsider what she was about to ask… Almost.

 

She tried to give an encouraging smile and laid a hand gently on the reporter’s shoulder. “Looking forward to it.” Pausing before she took a deep breath and started in, “But, in the meantime could you maybe do me a favor and run upstairs.” Trying to act as casual as she could despite the fear burning in her gut. “Maybe check on Becky while you’re up there.”

 

Bayley narrowed her eyes suspiciously, not buying Flair’s casual demeanor for a moment. “Why? What’s wrong?” she asked.

 

Charlotte had the decency to look a little guilty before she tried to downplay it. “Nothing. Or it might be nothing. Honestly, I could be worrying over nothing.” Falling over her words with uncharacteristic clumsiness. “She’s just been in her room since… Since earlier, and I’m pretty sure you are the least likely person she would want to kill right now.”

 

It was instantly apparent to Bayley what Charlotte was actually asking. A moment later, when she’d digested the implications of it, she felt immeasurably tired. Flair was asking her to go do HER dirty work, or at least unpleasant and potentially awkward work. Why did she allow herself to be put into these situations? SHE needed someone to talk to right now. But the worst part was, she knew she was going to say yes.

 

 _“Estupidas gringas!”_ she grumbled before she shrugged off her bag and tossed into onto a nearby bench with more the usual force. Closing her eyes and taking a few cleansing breaths she said, with a heavy sigh: “Alright, I’ll go.”

 

“Great!” Charlotte said. A little too quickly and maybe a little too loudly. Liv and Ruby turning their heads to look over at the pair. “I know this wasn’t exactly in the job description.”

 

Bayley waved the words away as she shrugged off her coat as well and set off back toward the stairs. She was annoyed at the world in general and Charlotte as well, but mostly at herself. She had to learn how to say no to these things. Trudging upward she reached the door to Becky’s apartment, took a deep breath, and knocked.

 

**Becky/Bayley**

The knock was enough to make the door slowly creak open. The strike plate for the doorknob destroyed from when it had been slammed shut earlier and leaving it perpetually unable to latch close.

 

The interior was dark and Bayley had a hard time seeing inside without any moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains. Only able to make out shadows along the wall and relying on what she already knew of the room to make out what they were.

 

She crept inside and finally noticed the tiny monitor that was haphazardly placed on top of a cardboard box that was being used as a makeshift table.

 

In the light flickering from the screen Bayley saw that Becky was sitting down on the floor with her back to the door.

 

Bayley had to take several steps further into the room before she could tell what was playing on the screen.

 

Footage of Sasha and Becky’s last fight filled the monitor. The sound muted as the first round came to a close and the fighters returned to their corners for a break.

 

Becky obviously had some sort of remote control as the image stuttered and began to fast forward till the beginning of the second round.

 

“Hey, Becky...umm...are you alright?” Bayley asked, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. She felt as though she’d just intruded on something very private, even intimate.

 

“I had her.” Becky said. Blatantly ignoring the question. “I fucking HAD her!” Her voice getting louder while her body stayed quiet and still. Not taking her eyes off the screen as the round began.

 

Taking another moment to assess the situation Bayley took a few steps forward and sat cautiously next to Becky. She’d half expected the Irishwoman to recoil or even leave at this, but Becky never looked away from the screen. Waiting a few moments she cleared her throat: “A lot of the other media there that day thought so as well.”

 

Becky heard the words but didn’t respond. Fixed on the action on screen. Watching the scene she knew by heart unfold from the first solid shot Sasha had landed to the inevitable moment when her knee would pop and the referee intervened. The Becky on screens mouth open in a silent scream.

 

Before it went any further she hit the rewind and skipped back to the bell ring at the start of the first round. Almost forgetting that Bayley sat next to her. “I can take her.” She whispered to herself. Not knowing if she believed her own words even as the fight began anew on the screen.

 

“Most educated opinion at the time thought you SHOULD have taken her...easily, so what happened?” Bayley asked. She made sure that her voice was completely free of accusation, as though she were merely asking about the weather.

 

“I lost.” Becky plainly said. Watching herself on screen and frowning even though she was basically dominating Sasha at this point in the fight.

 

“True…” Bayley said a sigh as she folded her legs in front of her self. She waited to see if Becky would respond but when she didn’t Bayley promoted her further: “But you’ve known that for a long time now, I’m guessing this isn’t something you do every night either. Want to talk about what’s actually bothering you?”

 

“Don’t want to talk about her.” Becky said without thinking. Once again skipping through the lull in between rounds and starting off the second round.

 

This statement confused Bayley for a moment. Was Becky talking about Sasha? But if that was the case, why would she not want to talk about her? She was watching a fight involving Sasha. A moment later her brain supplied her with the answer. It wasn’t Sasha, it was Charlotte.

 

But what to do with the lightbulb was more a problem. She knew, or at least sensed, that if she just came out with this Becky would deny it and that would be that. But she also knew that Becky would continue in her miniature exile until she discussed this. Taking a moment to silently damn Charlotte for putting her in this position, Bayley took a breath.

 

“I’m sure that SASHA had good reasons to do what she did...in that fight,” she offered hesitantly.

 

“She won, didn’t she? I know she had good reasons. But look right there!” Becky spoke up. Moving for the first time since Bayley had gotten there and pointing at the screen as her knee visibly popped. “I should have been able to get out of that! I’ve been in that position thousands of times and not once did I ever get caught. I KNOW HOW TO GET OUT OF IT!” Turning her head towards Bayley for just a moment. Eyes bloodshot from forgetting to blink. “I know I can.” Her voice losing steam and settling back to a more normal volume.

 

Her gaze returned back to the monitor. Once again restarting the fight and analyzing the movements she knew like the back of her hand by now. ‘Jab, step in, duck, circle, jab, jab, left straight, circle.’ Thinking about the moves a second before they happened.

 

“You COULD have beat her then...and maybe today?” Bayley asked quietly.

 

“Of course.” Becky replied. Though, her eyes never strayed from the fight on screen. “I’d never watched this… After...” She said quietly into the dark room.

 

“I know you don’t want to hear it but...it was quite the show,” Bayley said, still speaking quietly.

 

Becky remained quiet. Silently watching the rest of the fight play out while she sat. Not wanting to admit how bad her neck and back hurt from sitting cross legged on the floor for so long. It didn’t stop her from hitting the rewind button. The image on screen now becoming familiar to Bayley as well.

 

Despite thinking that she already knew the answer, Bayley asked: “What’s really bothering your Becky?”

 

“...Did you ever have a pet when you were younger?”

 

“Yes, a dog,” Bayley said with a nod.

 

“I’m sure you kept it safe right? Kept in inside when there was a storm. Put a leash on when you let it out.” Becky said without taking her eyes off the screen. “I’m not a dog Bayley… I don’t like being treated like one.”

 

It was on the tip of Bayley’s tongue to point out that, if your dog was snarling and showed every sign of making a run at another dog, you locked it up. But she didn’t. Instead she scooted so she was facing Becky and said: “You think Charlotte doesn’t believe in you.”

 

Becky’s hand wavered in the air as she rewound the fight once again. “I never said that.” Not even believing herself at the moment.

 

Bayley gave her a pitying look as she jerked a thumb at her own chest: “Lynch...REPORTER.”

 

The reminder wasn’t needed, but it did make Becky sit up a little straighter. “Good for you. Unless you have anything HELPFUL to say I’d love for you to get out of my room and leave me in peace.” As soon as the words left her lips Becky felt guilty for taking her anger out where it didn’t belong. She wasn’t willing to apologize right now, but she did try and soften the blow. “You look dead tired anyway. Don’t let me keep you from your bed.” Keeping her eyes diligently fixed on the screen so that she didn’t have to see Bayley.

 

Bayley thought about her reaction carefully here. Snapping back would be the worst possible thing, so she wouldn’t. But what did that leave her? Taking a breath she said: “Have you considered the possibility that the reason why you’ve been up here all day hiding and brooding is that, on some level, you aren’t sure Charlotte was wrong?” She didn’t wait for an answer she just leaned over, gave Becky a quick hug and stood. “Good night Becky,” she said softly before walking back through the door.

 

Becky had stiffened at the hug, but couldn’t deny that on some level the simple gesture of affection was something she seemed starved for. She waited till the door closed before whispering to herself, “Night Bayley. Feel Better.” Shaking away the thoughts in her head that Bayley had put there and pressing the rewind button yet again.

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

As soon as Charlotte had spotted Bayley at the base of the stairs she had tried to rush over as quickly as she could without appearing over eager. “So? How did it go?” She asked while nervously wringing her hands and peering over Bayley’s shoulder towards the stairs as if she had expected Becky to be right behind her.

 

Suddenly exhausted, Bayley rolled her head from side to side with her eyes closed before saying: _“deberías ir allí y preguntarle a ti mismo.”_

 

“Come on Bayley. English.” The longer it took for the brunette to give her an answer made Charlotte’s anxiety spike. Already picturing the worst.

 

 _“Sé que por eso lo dije…”_ Bayley said as she rubbed at her neck before switching languages and saying: “She is...not happy.”

 

“That’s true most of the time.” Charlotte flippantly responded. Taking note of how stressed and tired Bayley looked and worrying that maybe sending her up to Becky after dealing with Sasha earlier might have been asking too much.

 

“Look, Charlotte…” Bayley said wearily “...I get why you sent me up there, and I appreciate the trust. But, if you and Becky have something to work out...you two need to do it. I can’t be the girl running notes back and forth between you during class.”

 

Charlotte rushed to dismiss the words. “That’s not… I don’t even…” Unable to find a good response she just sighed and resigned herself to it. “Go home Bayley. Try to get a good sleep. If I don’t see you tomorrow I understand.” Stopping and trying to think of how best to bring up how truly despicable a certain action of Sasha’s was. “I honestly thought about lying and not giving you the letter. Sorry for everything today. I’ve been unfair to you in particular.”

 

Bayley felt her mouth go ashen at this even as she kept her increasingly false feeling smile on her face. She awkwardly patted Charlotte on the arm before taking a few steps past the blonde woman, making sure her back was to Charlotte before speaking again. “Thanks...Charlotte...I...I appreciate it. But, I’d be OK if we just don’t talk about this right now.” As she did she had to fully constrict her throat to keep a sniffle from escaping.

 

“I figured. Take care of yourself tonight Bayls.” Charlotte called out with sympathy. Already dreading the confrontation that was up next.

 

She watched the woman walk away. Her stride uncomfortably stiff and abnormal. Moving quickly despite, and snatching her things up from where they lay.

 

As Charlotte continued to follow her till she walked out the door she felt guilty for not being in a better mind to actually offer something helpful to Bayley. She let Bayley leave without another word. Knowing that she would have a chance to make it up to her sometime soon.

 

For now though, she had a certain Irish woman that she should probably see too.

 

**Charlotte**

 

Charlotte would make all sorts of excuses for why it had taken her nearly two hours to gather the courage to go upstairs and check on Becky, but she was all out of reasons around the gym to delay.

 

She had shifted weights around to the proper place. Wiped down some of the equipment. Thrown away some odd bits of trash that had been lying about. Anything was easier than dealing with the temperamental Irish woman above.

 

She slowly made her way up the stairs. Still not looking forward to this after Bayley’s own trip had ended with nothing.

 

The door was already cracked open and Charlotte didn’t bother to knock. Pushing her way inside as if she owned the place, which technically she kind of did.

 

She opened her mouth, but closed it just as quickly.

 

The soft light from the monitor illuminated a curled up lump on the ground only identifiable because of the orange hair that cascaded down to the wood floor.

 

Charlotte’s brain was screaming at her to just leave. Take the blessing in disguise and go home.

 

She bit back a groan when her stupid conscience mentioned that the floor wasn’t a great place for someone to sleep. The cold wood surely not making the comfiest of beds.

 

Her long stride took her quickly over the floor and she stopped just inches from the lump that was Becky. Poking her in the ribs with the toe of her short heels and getting nothing in response.

 

That would certainly make this easier.

 

Her eyes moved to the monitor. It had long since fallen into rest mode and the picture had dimmed, but not enough for Charlotte to not see Sasha in the ring holding the belt high. Just barely able to see a body in the background surrounded by medical personnel.

 

She sighed heavily and turned off the screen. Plunging the room into near complete darkness. The single light bulb in the hallway letting in just enough light for Charlotte to kind of see.

 

Charlotte bent down on her knee and took the time to actually study the other woman. Knowing that she would never get the chance when Becky was actually awake.

 

The hard edges and years of abuse receded and Charlotte could swear that she was getting a glimpse into a parallel universe where Lynch hadn’t lived such a hard life.

 

Before Charlotte could stop herself, her hand reached out and gently shifted a bit of hair out of Becky’s face where it had been dangling in front of her nose. Softly blowing from the gentle puffs of air as Lynch slept on. Curling in on herself a little more before settling back down.

 

At the moment Charlotte couldn’t see a sign of the old Irish Lass Kicker. Just a eerily tiny woman caught in a web of her own making.

 

At least in her dreams in seemed like the redhead was able to escape her own demons.

 

Charlotte swallowed and pulled back. Not liking the path her thoughts were taking her down.

 

It was far easier to just be annoyed at the caricature she had painted in her own head, than examine the real woman underneath it. Even if in every waking moment Becky seemed preoccupied with trying to prove Charlotte’s assumptions true at every turn.

 

With steady hands she reached down and scooped the bundle of muscle up into her arms.

 

Surprised when in her exhausted sleep Becky’s head fell against her chest. Her ear directly over Charlotte’s heart, who was convinced the suddenly heavy beats would wake the woman and make this whole situation incredibly awkward.

 

Luckily for her Becky seemed to just be automatically adjusting herself, but not actually awakening.

 

Quickly, Charlotte walked a few steps till she was next to the bed. Setting the woman down onto the mattress and taking a single step away before she was tempted to do something stupid.

 

She was about to leave when Charlotte hesitated and reached down to pull a pillow down and slide it as carefully as she could under Becky’s head. Using her other hand to support the Irish woman’s head and lift it up just enough.

 

When she was done Charlotte turned away and walked towards the doorway.

 

“‘M sorry Charlie.”

 

The whisper was so quiet that Charlotte was sorely tempted to just pretend she hadn’t heard. Her hand hovering on the doorknob.

 

“Sorry I’m not what you wish I was.”

 

Charlotte felt her heart break a little at the vulnerable words that seemed much louder in the silent room than in actuality. She didn’t turn around though. “Someone will be here in the morning to fix the door.” Caught between her need to keep herself focused on what was best for the business and the undeniably frustrating draw towards the fighter that just wouldn’t go away.

 

Becky didn’t make anymore noise, so Charlotte wasn’t sure if she had fallen back asleep or didn’t want to say anything else.

 

“Tomorrow will be a busy day. I’ll see you in the morning.” Walking out the door and down the stairs. The promise of her own bed driving her onwards. It had nothing to do with needing to physically put some distance between her and a certain woman living in her gym.

 

**Becky**

 

The shrill, piercing noise of her alarm going off was not the easiest way to start the day, but Becky had learned early on that anything less would result in her staying in bed and procrastinating.

 

She blindly swiped at the button to stop the noise several times in the dark before she managed to return the room to relative silence. The only noise being the constant hum of Boston. A steady background music that had settled into her bones in a relatively short time there.

 

Becky wouldn’t call it home, but there was something about this place that she couldn’t define yet felt ever present. Like trying to catch smoke in your hand and coming so close but never managing to corral and examine it.

 

Large red numbers pronounced the time, 5:15am.

 

With a determined but heavy tired sigh, she rolled over and flopped her legs over the side of the bed. Yawning loudly as she stretched. Her back sore from yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. The entirety of the last three weeks and change or so in actuality

 

The palm of her hands rubbed the sleep from her eyes and she sat in silence for a minute. Counting out the seconds in line with her breathing and letting herself just be. Focusing on her toes, then her feet and moving her focus slowly up her body. Just feeling every aching and tired muscle that she would be push to their limit once again.

 

Her eyes unconsciously were drawn to the dirty old mirror she procured from the gym during Charlotte’s renovations leaning against the wall. A piece of paper hanging down from the glass by a piece of ripped duct tape.

 

She didn’t even need to read what was on it to recite the words in her head.

 

Shortly after her sit-down interview had aired, Becky’s name was on many of the women’s bantamweight division lips. Most just looking to make a payday from the Becky fight and maybe make their name off the former champion returning from injury. Some looking to also avenge past losses.

 

But only one’s words had managed to make Becky’s temper burn strong enough that the only way to safely release her fury had been to go down to the gym at one in the morning and start punching a bag. Not bothering to tape up her fists or throw on a pair of gloves in her dark mood.

 

Punching away until the moonlight reflected off the blood that smeared the side she had been working on.

 

Only then did she stop. Dutifully going to the locker room and running water over her wounds. Dressing them herself before moving back to the gym and vigorously cleaning any remnants of her episode so that no one would be any wiser come morning.

 

She had walked right into Charlotte’s office the second she knew the woman was in. Barging right up to her and demanding a fight with Eve Torres.

 

Needless to say, Becky got her way and the fight was on.

 

Even so, it didn’t erase the deeply personal attacks Torres directed her way during an interview with Mandy Rose.

 

Becky threw on her running clothes; a tattered sweatshirt that was too old and faded for anyone but her to know that it originally proudly declared ‘Property of Celtic Combat Sports’ on the front and some simple black leggings.

 

As her feet slapped against the cold pavement Becky couldn’t run away from the comments. Driving her to try harder even though she had never managed to outrun her own thoughts before.

 

_“Lynch deserved what she got. She was a piece of shit from the start and if she wants to come back to fighting I’d love to greet her. That way I can finish what Banks started and rid MMA of a cancer. The way I see, it I would be doing a good for our business. I don’t want a lying, alcoholic, pill popping, addict like that representing my sport.”_

 

That alone had been enough to irritate her, but Becky tried to see it from the other woman’s point of view and she did have a point on one account. Maybe Becky wasn’t the best representative for the sport but she was trying. Seemed like most of the world didn’t care if you were trying and would rather focus on the stupid shit she had done.

 

_“Becky Lynch is a coward who would have done the whole world a favor by finding a tiny corner and curling up to die. Honestly, the woman wants to claim she is ‘trying to be better and do the right thing’ but we all know how this story ends. More people hurt by Lynch’s selfishness once she gets bored of trying to act like she cares and falls off the wagon. She would solve more problems and do more good if she had the balls to do the REAL right thing and pull the trigger.”_

 

Those words followed Becky in every practice. Everytime she ran in the morning and a stitch in her side made her slow down, the words came back and she pushed through.

 

All those long days when she thought that all she could do was flop down to the ground like a ragdoll the words came back and Becky found it in her to put one foot in front of the next and stay upright. Keep moving her own internal mantra.

 

She was haunted by them. Not just because of how hurtful and mean spirited they were but because she knew that at some points in her life she would have probably agreed with her.

 

Even now one of her greatest fears was that she would slip and fall back into her old ways. Everyday a struggle to make the right choices.

 

Picking up the speed she moved into an all out sprint. Hoping to outrun her self doubt and the paralyzing fear that all it takes is one bad day to destroy months of hard work and sobriety in an instant.

 

It ended in a tie.

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha was in her happy place. The place that involved her hitting things.

 

She was only hitting a heavy bag but she was punishing it. Her fists were moving so fast that they would be hard for a casual observer to follow. She landed another series of crunching punches before switching to a series of quick kicks. Starting low and working upward she hammered the hapless bag with her shins and feet before moving back into punching.

 

“Nice work! Two more minutes!” Simon Dean, her new trainer, told her from where he was holding the bag.

 

Sasha just grunted in response. She and Teddy had hired Dean to replace Bobby Lashley. He had a solid resume and had been doing good work with Iconic Combat Sports but so far Sasha hadn’t been overly impressed. A good trainer was supposed to do more than just offer the occasional helpful tip while acting as a virtual rubber stamp for the fighters desires. But that was what Dean had been doing for her. And, if Sasha was honest, that was why she’d hired him.

 

She was aware of paradox here. She’d hired someone because she thought he’d do what she told him. But now that she had that, she found she had no respect for a yes man. Grimacing as she worked she put a bit extra into her next few punches, working out some of her frustration at a situation she’d created on the heavy bag.

 

Her frustrations with Dean aside, Sasha was in a pretty good mood. Or as good as she ever was these days. Her invasion of Charlotte Flair’s press conference had been every bit as satisfying as she hoped. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if Lynch herself had shown up. But knowing that the Irish woman was hiding from her was one hell of a consolation prize.

 

Of course, her final act of petulance at the gym was one that no one but herself, Charlotte Flair, and (presumably) Bayley would know about. After her sharp conversation with the blonde woman, she’d taken a white envelope out of her jacket and tossed it contemptuously at Flair. “What the hell is this?” Charlotte had asked heatedly.

 

“Give it to your pet reporter, I think she’ll like it,” Sasha had told her as she stood and, with deliberate slowness, donned her ‘boss’ sunglasses.

 

“What the hell is it?!” Charlotte repeated in a dangerous tone. Sasha, who was at the door at this point looked back over her shoulder and said airily: “A wedding invitation, maybe you can be her plus one.”

 

It had occurred to Sasha in the days since her invasion that she might have gone easy on Flair and her cronies. She’d known Flair many years ago, before she herself had moved to the west coast. That had been when they were both still struggling to become fighters. Sasha didn’t recall much about that time but she thought remembered that she and Flair had gotten along well enough.

 

Maybe it was some of this old sentiment that had led her to allow herself to be pulled aside by Flair. If she’d wanted maximum impact she really should have stayed in front of the reporters. Oh well, she thought, she knew that Teddy’s phone hadn’t stopped ringing with interview requests since that day. She’d get her to share her side of the story, when she was ready.

 

Frankly, she could use the distraction at this point. Her personal life had begun to feel more and more like a fishbowl since she and Zelina had been spending more time in Boston. The producers of ‘Boss-Z’, the reality show that was being shot around her wedding, had ensured that she almost never had a private moment. Zelina seemed to relish the constant presence of cameras, Sasha hated it. BUT she hated dealing with Zelina’s tantrums more so she’d just banished them from her training sessions. Which was why Sasha was spending more time training these days, even if she was doing it essentially sans a trainer.

 

“What would you like to do next?” Dean asked as Sasha stepped away from the bag. Even this question made Sasha despise the man a bit more.

 

“Just go get me water,” Sasha snapped as she moved off toward the door to where the hydro treadmills were located. She had dinner with Zelina later that she wasn’t looking forward to, she wanted to get every second in training she could. As she went she was intercepted by Teddy.

 

“Hey playa, got some things to run past you,” her manager said by way of greeting. Sasha just grunted. But Teddy knew her moods by now so he just plowed onward: “I got a few appearances and endorsements I want you to think about.”

 

Another grunt.

 

“First, Clex’s wants you to do a commercial for them. They want to make a ‘Boss BBQ Bowl’,” Teddy explained.

 

“Hmm, maybe...what are they offering?” Sasha asked, finally interested. Teddy told her. “Tell them to put a one and a zero in front of that and we’ll talk,” Sasha told him instantly. Clex’s was a worldwide brand, they could do better.

 

“The producers on ‘Drop the Mic’ want you to come on the show,” Teddy said, reading through a list on this phone.

 

“That’s the battle rap show right?”

 

“Yep,”

 

“Are you serious?” Sasha demanded indignantly. She was about to go into a rant when Teddy cut in smoothly.

 

“Listen playa, your little stunt at the presser? It got you lots of play but it’s not all good pub. Going on a show like this? It’s the right move for your brand. Show the public that you’re fun,” he told her sagely.

 

Sasha’s instant reaction was to push back, as she always did when she felt she was being pushed in a certain direction. But the hours she’d spent listening to Zelina talk about how important ‘imaging’ was hadn’t been entirely wasted. Sasha knew that she couldn’t fight forever and that she would still want her share of the spotlight when she was done. She needed to think long term, or at least that’s what she’d been told.

 

“When?” she asked in a resigned voice.

 

“You don’t have another fight scheduled yet so what about next week? You’ll fly back out to LA, shoot the episode, and then come back a few days later. Zelina would love a trip back west,” Teddy pointed out. He’d meant this to encourage Sasha but it just soured her mood again. Her girlfriend had been in an almost perpetual sulk since they’d arrived in Boston.

 

“Yeah... I bet,” Sasha said darkly. She brooded for a few moments before she asked: “Anything else?”

 

“You want to be in the next Sharknado movie?”

 

“Fuck out of here,” Sasha told him as she disappeared into the changing room.

 

**Bayley/Charlotte**

 

In contrast to most of the other adults around her on the plane, Bayley wasn’t reading, sitting quietly, or sleeping. She was on her switch.

 

Mario Kart kept her occupied well past the Mississippi but at a certain point she just needed to do something else. Putting her switch back in her carry on she looked around the cabin. Charlotte had paid to fly herself, Bayley, Liv, Ruby, and Becky out to Las Vegas. When she’d been informed of this she’d fully expected to end up sitting in steerage, which had happened to Liv and Ruby. To her surprise, she’d gotten a first class seat just like Charlotte and Becky.

 

Standing and making her way carefully into the aisle Bayley saw that Becky, sitting a few seats behind her, had headphones and sleep mask on. Bayley guessed that the fighter wasn’t actually sleeping, her chest wasn’t rising and falling the way a sleeping person’s would.But the non-verbal cue was stark so Bayley didn’t bother her. Well, she did a little. Taking a small salt packet that had come with her lunch Bayley opened it and dumped into Becky’s water. She then met the eyes of the girl sitting next to Becky and gave her a wink as she held a finger to her lips.

 

It was a sign of how much Bayley’s mood had improved over the past few days that she felt up to pranks. She’d certainly done more crying recently than normal but she’d reached a moment of clarity as well. As much as it hurt, she had to acknowledge that whatever had been between her and Sasha was now totally dead. It was time for her her to move on, or at least think about it. This hadn’t made her feel ‘better’ per say, but it had provided that desperately needed focus and clarity.

 

Shaking this from her head Bayley made her way to the front of the cabin to where she saw the back of Charlotte’s head. When she got closer she saw that Charlotte was just finishing a glass of wine.

 

Charlotte never usually drank on flights, but felt like she deserved to make an exception give the situation she was in.

 

It seemed as if the floodgates had opened and all the shit in her life that could bring stress decided that this week was the perfect time to pop up.

 

The week would have been immeasurably stressful with just Becky Lynch and her fight. The media that would accompany it and the entire unknown element that was how Becky herself would handle it all with no one to hold her hand.

 

Then her father has to go and tell her that he won’t even be coming to the fight. She had pressed him of course, and finally got him to cave and explain that he had a doctor’s appointment that couldn’t be postponed.

 

He said it wasn’t anything to worry about, and even gave her a classic Ric line about what happens in Vegas. She hadn’t been amused.

 

She knew that he had always downplayed the emotional in his life. His DUI’s after Reid’s death a testament to his need to distract and push away real pain.

 

So naturally Charlotte assumed it was something serious for him to not follow through and watch his pet project run wild for the first time.

 

Which led her back to why she was even drinking on this flight in the first place.

 

Sitting all alone next to a chair that was supposed to be carrying her father.

 

“So...only you in the this row huh? Lucky break right?” Bayley said weakly. She’d instantly sensed that Charlotte was feeling down and wanted to try and cheer the other woman up. Just as quickly she realized that she’d miscalculated.

 

Charlotte huffed and took a sip of her wine. “Lucky... Sure.” Placing the now empty glassware down a little harder than necessary. “That’s what I am.”

 

“I…” it was on the tip of Bayley’s tongue to apologize but she decided against it “...I wondered if you had any other things you wanted to tell me before I posted my next update?” The finish was lame and she knew Charlotte would know this, but she hoped the other woman would pick up on the sub text.

 

Sighing, Charlotte grabbed her laptop bag off the open seat and slid it smoothly beneath her seat. “Might as well take a seat then.”

 

Feeling no less awkward Bayley slid past Charlotte and sat down beside her. It was only then that she realized she’d walked over here with no clear idea what she wanted to say to Charlotte. She’d honestly just been hoping to chat with someone to pass the time. But now that it was clear something was on Charlotte’s mind she felt as though she were intruding.

 

“Good wine?” she finally asked, and instantly wanted to kick herself for asking it.

 

Charlotte chuckled at the lame question. “It’s alright. Has alcohol in it.” She turned her head towards Bayley and gave her as much of a smile as she could muster right now. “Thinking of a glass yourself? It’s a great way to make all this craziness a little easier. Although I just realized I probably shouldn’t be saying that to a reporter considering who I represent now.”

 

Bayley smiled, grateful for the lifeline. “If I were a PR expert and NOT a reporter I’d probably be scolding you right now.” She’d said jokingly.

 

Charlotte continued to smile even as Bayley inadvertently reminded her of another problem on her plate. Luckily though she thought she may have that particular problem almost dealt with. “Good to know I avoided a Bayley scolding. I’m sure that must be terrifying.”

 

“Remember what I told you about muppets earlier?” Bayley asked, trying to raise the other woman’s spirits. Truthfully she felt like she should be pouncing on this opportunity, at least as a professional. But, again, her own sense of right and wrong wouldn’t allow her to. Instead, she asked: “Is something wrong Charlotte?”

 

The blonde debated internally on what to say. She still didn’t know exactly what was wrong with her father and was sure if he didn’t want her knowing he wouldn’t want the media to get wind. But another larger part of her just wanted to at least tell someone and Bayley was the only one around. Maybe the wine was fueling her a little more than she thought, “Off the record. My dad didn’t come because he’s sick. Not because of him wanting to keep an eye on the gym while I’m gone.”

 

Bayley nodded somberly. Truthfully she hadn’t walked over here as ‘reporter’ Bayley but this reminder was helpful. Other people were, naturally, wary around her at times because they didn’t know what was going to make it to print. This was sometimes a good thing but more often isolating. She pushed this aside however, now wasn’t the time to focus on her own issues.

 

“Do you know what’s wrong?...entirely and forever off the record of course,” she added.

 

“No offense, but if you’ve known my dad as long as I have you’d know he never reveals when something is bothering him unless someone forces him to.” Charlotte spoke calmly. Finding her nerves already slipping away from just being able to talk about this with another person. “I had to twist his arm just to tell me he was going to the doctor. Might of had to get Becky to torture him like she does me, to get him to tell me what was actually wrong.”

 

“Somehow I can see Mr. Flair liking that...” Bayley joked “...I got the sense he likes younger women who don’t take his crap.”

 

Charlotte closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest. Her entire body shaking slightly as she laughed to not cry. “Sad thing is, you are probably right about that. Did you know one of the first thing he did when Becky came into the gym looking like a stray dog was hit on her? Said she reminded him of his future wife.” Scoffing as she felt an extremely uncomfortable burst of jealousy towards her father. Not something she ever wanted to feel. Quickly shaking the thought away and burying it far, far away.

 

“Awkward much?” Bayley joked. After a moment’s thought she added: “But...well...nevermind.”

 

“Yeah.” Charlotte trailed off. Not really wanting to speak about her father anymore, but also finding that she was enjoying the other woman’s company. Finding her energy calming amidst the constant firing in brain. “He can be a handful.”

 

“Well, I bet he’s proud of you at least,” Bayley offered, sensing that Charlotte was uncomfortable.

 

“He has his moments.” A tiny smile cracking her face. “Has he hit on you yet? I will apologize on his behalf if I need to.” Keeping her tone light.

 

Bayley laughed: “Actually he’s one of those rare men who can do it so well that you don’t realize it was happening until afterward.”

 

“It’s what makes him so damn annoying to have as a father. Can’t take him anywhere.”

 

Bayley knew it wouldn’t be helpful but she had to add: “I mean...Ruby is gay and even she told me that she found him charming.”

 

“Maybe I should just look on the bright side that I won’t have to watch my father flirt with nineteen year old cocktail waitresses.” Shuddering at the all too real scenario she had seen play out before despite her being right there.

 

“I’m assuming that’s because you no longer take him places where there ARE nineteen year old cocktail waitresses? Bayley asked wryly.

 

Charlotte grinned. “I may have a banned list somewhere.” Shaking her head. “I’d feel horrible if I didn’t ask how your time at the gym has been overall? Crazy how fast time flies.”

 

Bayley thought about her answer for awhile. Recently she’d been having a very hard time at the gym, though she freely admitted this had nothing to do with Charlotte. But as she reflected back she had to admit that she was very grateful for her time there so far. It had become her new normal, and she realized that someday she’d have to leave, which was a disturbing thought.

 

“Hectic, sometimes very stressful, but overall...you’re doing a damned good job Charlotte,” Bayley offered.

 

“Doesn’t always feel like it, but I appreciate it. I’d like to think we made a pretty good team. The fact that Becky is actually on this flight amazes me. When she came in I didn’t even know if she would be ready to fight in a year.” Charlotte stared down at her lap. “You were a big part in that. Thanks… For all the… Everything.” She finished. Quickly looking over her shoulder to ensure Becky was still wearing her eye pillow before leaning across the armrest and giving Bayley a strong but quick hug.

 

Had Charlotte punched her...or even flashed her Bayley couldn’t have been more surprised. So much so that it took her a moment to fully grasp what was happening. But when she caught up she smiled and returned the hug for the brief time it lasted. Smiling she said: “I don’t know if you’ve realized by now but...I’m a hugger.”

 

“I suppose there are worse things.” Charlotte teased. Letting herself steal whatever comfort Bayley would let her, before she carefully and abruptly pulled herself back into her seat.

 

Charlotte realized that they were nearing the end of the conversation and took a chance. Not wanting to spend the rest of the flight sipping idly at another wine.

 

“You could always bring your stuff up here. I have two tickets and only one body. Come on, its getting lonely working by myself. I could use another person with an actual brain.” Pouring on the Flair charm and unknowingly showing shades of her own father. Wiggling her eyebrows and pouting ever so slightly.

 

Bayley wasn’t unaware of the irony on display here, which wasn’t to say she was immune to it either. Smiling she said: “That sounds nice, besides...at some point Becky will have to stop pretending to sleep and when she does she’ll probably drink her water. I don’t want to be back there when she does.”

 

“Do I want to know?”

 

“Whether you want to or not you’ll probably find out,” Bayley said with a grin as she stood and headed back to her seat.

 

Charlotte leaned back into her chair. Her face much calmer than it had been before. She pulled her laptop back out onto her lap and pulled up the file on Alexa Bliss.

 

Bayley had resettled into her new seat and was hard at work going over her notes and putting some finishing touches on her latest article. Nearly fifteen minutes had passed when both woman and the entirety of the cabin jumped.

 

“WHO DA FOOK!” The Irish accent unmistakable as it followed sound of liquid being spit out violently. Charlotte looked quickly over at Bayley with eyes narrowed by suspicion as the reporter, refusing to look up from her screen, simply turned up the volume on whatever she was listening to.

 

**Becky**

 

It was an odd feeling for Becky to be back in a locker room and able to hear the ebb and flow of the crowds energy throughout the night. Stuck in the locker room just waiting for her turn to go out there and be in front of the raucous Vegas crowd.

 

Odder still was the feeling of not being in the main event.

 

It’s not as if she had fallen to the prelims, only to the co-main but who exactly was in the main event was the problem.

 

Of course she would be put on a card with Finn Balor defending his belt against Adrian Neville in the fight right after hers.

 

Someone at the BFA must have gotten a kick at the thought. Maybe even believed that having the ex-teammates on the same card would someone drum up more interest.

 

Whether or not it brought any more eyes on the fight was to be determined but Becky damn sure had been asked about it more than enough since getting here.

 

At least today was the end of it. Win, lose or draw it would all be over… Until the next fight.

 

A knock on her door pulled her attention and one of the stagehands gave her the five minute warning for when she would be walking to the cage.

 

The entire fight week was meant to help prepare fighters for the moment when they would step in and fight but it never stopped Becky from feeling sick every time she would get the heads up. She never actually got sick but the feeling was there from her first fight and like clockwork her stomach started to turn. Uncomfortable to the point of being painful.

 

She forced herself to get up and warm up a little more. Testing her right knee with her weight for what must have been the twentieth time that night.

 

Luckily Liv and Ruby had stayed quiet during most of the night and hadn’t bothered her too much.

 

Charlotte had stopped by earlier but had only stayed for a few minutes. Busily rushing out of the room with her phone buzzing away incessantly.

 

It was hard for Becky to admit but she could have actually used the blonde’s straightforward approach and biting honesty right now.

 

Putting it all to the side Becky took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Walking down to the tunnel where she would enter and waiting for yet more time.

 

The slow build up shredding her nerves more than they ever had been for her past fights.

 

Ruby broke her silence. “You got this Becky.” Not offering anymore than that. Knowing anything more would be rejected.

 

Becky gave a terse nod. Bouncing on the balls of her feet as the sound of the video package before the fight echoed in the cavernous arena tunnel.

 

Just a few seconds in and the words that had haunted Becky through eight long, gruelling and arduous weeks of training replayed throughout the arena for all to hear.

 

The cameraman that would follow her walk to the ring gave her a thirty second warning, but Becky didn’t bother to acknowledge him right now. Not out of any animosity but rather a laser focus on what was at hand..

 

All the anguish she put her body through to get here came down to this.

 

Becky nodded to herself with five seconds left and closed her eyes as her music started to play.

 

Ready or not, now was the time to prove to herself that her life wasn’t over. That one setback; one injury, won’t be the end of her legacy.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley looked down at her seat dubiously. That was a good way to describe everything about The Goldust....dubious.

 

As much as BFA liked to pretend that there ‘were no small cards’, there were. Or at least there were smaller, or in this case ‘dubious’,venues. The Goldust fit that category to perfection. One of Vegas’ less salubrious off strip casinos the Goldust nonetheless had a large enough auditorium to host a fight night. The earlier contests had all been entertaining enough but had featured no truly prominent names.

 

The big stories of the night were all about the Irish. Initially the entire card had been defined by the Balor-Neville title contest. But the surprising late addition to the card of Becky Lynch’s comeback fight had changed that calculation. Now it was the odd case where an undercard fight seemed to be drawing significantly more attention that the main event.

 

Bayley had reached out to Shane McMahon’s office for comment on the decision to schedule Becky’s fight on the same night as Finn’s. But it seemed the commissioner had nothing to say on the matter. Never one to just take no, Bayley had begun to work some back channels. She’d eventually managed to pull off the classic scenario that so many reporters had relied on before her to get quotes from less than willing sources.

 

You simply pestered them until they gave you one out of annoyance.

 

“What the hell kind of a question is that? Of course we wanted them both on the same card, the angle is a huge draw!” had been the annoyed response that McMahon had snapped into her recorder. More than enough for Bayley to be happy with. Dave Finlay, head trainer of Celtic Combat Sports, hadn’t been quite as overtly rude but he’d been just as short.

 

“No, comment,” he’d growled before walking away when Bayley had sought him out at his hotel. Unlike with McMahon Bayley knew that this really was all she’d get from the famously brusque trainer. Despite this she’d stayed plenty busy in the two days before the fight chasing down other angles for her eventual story and recap. Almost until the fights began in fact.

 

But now here she was, once again finding her seat in media row. Her DUBIOUS seat. It just seemed like every surface in the Goldust could benefit by being sanded down by two or three centimeters. Still, she was here on a press pass and Flair had payed for the flight so she supposed she should be grateful. Taking her seat, Bayley shot a look over to where Charlotte was sitting with other VIP’s. The blonde was engrossed in conversation with someone Bayley didn’t know but seemed to be enjoying herself.

 

She was quite the actress. Bayley had gotten close enough with her over the last few weeks that she knew, given how much Charlotte had riding on this fight, the other woman would be a tangled ball of nearly frayed nerves. Bayley actually knew more about how much more Charlotte had riding on this fight than the other woman realized.

 

Bayley had let it go in one of their earlier interviews but she’d been slowly checking out Charlotte’s relationship with Bob Orton for awhile now. She knew that shortly before Becky had arrived in Boston Charlotte had allowed the former boxer to buy a nearly controlling stake in the Flair gym. She also had guessed that Charlotte was borrowing heavily to finance Becky’s comeback, She’d been around the gym long enough to know that it just didn’t make enough money from it’s small client base to be financing all of this.

 

Bayley knew she she should be objective about this. But she’d spent so much time with both Becky and Charlotte that she just couldn’t be, at least not in her own head. She really wanted things to work out for both women. For that to happen, Becky just had to win her fight tonight.

 

“Hey! Martinez!” a familiar voice broken in on her thoughts. Looking up she saw Zach Ryder edging down the row of media toward her.

 

“Hey Zach!” Bayley said brightly. She liked Zach Ryder, he was a good reporter though chronically underused by his network. She then looked down to see the pair of hot dogs in his hand. She gave him a skeptical look and asked: “Really? You’re going to trust the food here?”

 

“Meh, I’ve eaten worse,” Ryder said as she sat down next to her.

 

“You understand that just because you’ve eaten worse doesn’t make this a good idea right?”

 

“Thanks, MOM,” he told her with a laugh.

 

“I pity your mother,” Bayley said mock sternly as she opened a new document on her laptop. She tried to take general notes throughout a fight though she never actually started any serious writing.

 

Ignoring her remark Ryder changed the subject asking: “What are we gonna see from your girl tonight?”

 

Assuming he meant Becky, Bayley took some time to consider her answer. She honestly wasn’t sure. Had this match been played on a video game she’d have said that Becky should win easily. Torres was pretty good but even an 80% Becky Lynch ought to bury her. But coming back off a major injury? Under the pressure of a big fight for the first time in over a year? It was hard to say.

 

Cracking a half smile she said: “I think she’s coloring her hair a slightly different shade these days?”

 

Ryder laughed and said: “Fine, keep your secrets.”

 

“I always do. Besides, you network boys can’t be seen depending on a lowly blog for help can you?” she teased him.

 

Before he could answer the light dimmed and all eyes turned toward the tunnel. Bayley really didn't know what she should expect from this fight. All she knew was that, in spite of every journalistic standard, she wanted Becky to win. Waiting until music began to play, and speaking quietly enough that Ryder wouldn’t hear her, she whispered to herself.

 

“C’mon Lynch…”

 

**Becky**

 

Stepping out of a tunnel in front of thousands was not a feeling that could be replicated. Someone could only acclimate themselves after experiencing it first.

 

Becky remembered the first time she had ever came out in an arena like this, and though the crowd had been pitifully small, she had still forgotten everything her coaches had told her when the lights turned onto her.

 

This wasn’t the same feeling but she did feel similarly overwhelmed as the crowd noise began to grow with every step.

 

When she heard a loud portion of the crowd cheering for her rather than booing Becky was more than a little stunned. Stopping in her tracks so abruptly that Liv nearly walked into her.

 

Becky ignored Liv and Ruby as they stood silent and understanding on her flanks. Dropping down to one knee as the noise and lights made the cavernous arena feel like a tiny closet filled to the brim with her own baggage.

 

The cameraman that had been walking backwards to film Becky’s walkout got an order from Kevin in the back and stepped closer. Lowering the camera in an attempt to get an angle where Becky’s face would be on camera.

 

Seeing the motion Becky shut her eyes tightly and reminded herself to just breathe. Take it slow.

 

Without warning the Irish woman shot up to her feet and sprinted past the cameraman and down to the cage, as the familiar chords of Pearl Jam’s ‘Even Flow’ blared over the speakers. Liv and Ruby following closely behind. Nervous in their own right. Never having been at an event with this much buzz and media attention before.

 

Becky made it to the cage and gave Ron Simmons, one of BFA’s most senior referees, a tiny grin. Letting him quickly check her gear and pat her down before he returned with one of his own and shook his head. Poking his thumb towards the cage and muttering, “Damn. Shit’s bought to get interesting.”

 

Her first footsteps onto the canvas came with too many emotions for Becky to identify.

 

She started to jog around the cage. Filled with a bundle of energy that felt fit to burst if not let out.

 

Becky shook her head and kept her eyes forward. Looking out into the crowd but not really seeing anything.

 

Every athlete handled fight day differently, but almost everyone concurred that there was a moment when you switched. Became a different person almost. But it was necessary to go out there and do what they did. Putting their lives on the line with only themselves to blame if things go wrong. Fighting was different than other sports in that way. Even though you had a coach, inside the cage it’s only you and your opponent. No one else to pick up your slack if you want a second off. No one else to blame for why you failed.

 

Becky had been worried when she had been less than an hour from the fight and hadn’t felt the switch, but now in front of everyone she could feel it stirring.

 

Honing in on the task that was in front of her as Eve made her entrance second, having made a big deal of it in the fight contract even though Becky readily signed regardless of when she entered. The entire matter trivial to her.

 

Like a shark she hadn’t taken her eyes off of the other woman while she pranced down to the ring as if she thought she was something special.

 

Everything outside the cage didn’t matter anymore.

 

The ref called them towards the middle of the cage and Becky didn’t bother to blink. Smoothly walking forward with an odd sense of calm settling in.

 

Rage, disgust, self loathing and fear that sometimes seemed to be her constant companion gave way to a nothingness that Becky welcomed.

 

She didn’t bother listening to the ref’s word. Having heard them all before.

 

When he finished and asked for the fighters to customarily touch gloves, if they wanted too, Becky head stood still as her eyes followed Eve’s movement. The other woman bouncing on her toes left to right and shaking her arms. Not having made one attempt to return Becky’s stare after all she had said.

 

Becky didn’t bother raising her gloves but stood her ground even as the referee put an arm between them just in case. Becky’s reputation and Eve’s comments being well known, making the organization a little worried that something unbecoming for the sport could take place.

 

When Torres turned and walked back to her corner Becky slyly grinned. She had been a victim of her own doing for too long, and she wanted nothing more than to make someone else feel just a fraction of the pain she had felt, but she was still calm.

 

It was all coming back to her now. The feeling of walking into a ring and having someone beat before they even entered the ring. Torres was good, probably better than she gave herself credit for. But Becky always had a keen eye for weakness before she let everything get to her head.

 

Blood was in the water before the bell rang and Becky buzzed with anticipation. Slowly walking backwards till the cage stopped her progress.

 

On a whim she slowly slid down the cage till she sat motionless. Waiting on the ref for his call and giving him a small nod to show she was ready. Still having not taken her eyes off of her opponent. Casually standing on the other side of the octagon like she had a chance to win this fight.

 

There wasn’t a whole lot Becky felt certain of anymore but she knew that Eve was going to tap out tonight.

 

The bell rang and signified the start of the round.

 

Eve cautiously moved out towards the center. Peering curiously to where Becky remained sitting.

 

With a sigh Becky got up to her feet with the aura of someone who was maybe just getting up from a quick break at the jobsite, rather than someone in the middle a cage.

 

She didn’t even bother to drop into an athletic stance. Feet shoulder width apart but arms still hanging near her hips.

 

Becky didn’t have to listen to know that Ruby was yelling at her already to get her hands up and take this fight seriously, but this was about more than just a simple fight for her. This was everything.

 

The crowd was starting to get a little restless with almost no action in the first minute. Eve was hesitant to engage on the feet and was more than a little thrown by Becky’s loose and calm approach. She threw several jabs that weren’t even close. Throwing them more to gauge the distance and try and see what Becky’s reaction was than to do any damage.

 

Becky hadn’t even graced the jab feints with a hint of head movement. Reading the tense way Eve was throwing the punch and knowing it was just a smokescreen for what she was actually trying to do.

 

She saw her moment when Eve loaded up on a right straight after another feint. Obviously hoping Becky would continue to not respect the feint and leave herself open for the follow up.

 

Becky quickly dipped her head to the left and moved just out of the way of the right straight. So close that she felt the edge of Eve’s glove scrape the side of her face. The stitching on the edge making a tiny cut at the corner of Becky’s right eye that almost immediately began to steadily leak blood.

 

It was unfortunate luck but it didn’t bother her at all. Countering and making her way inside to grab a hold of the other woman and continue driving forward planting her right leg without a care and using her left to snake around the back of Torres’ knee. Making her crash to her back with Becky on top, immediately falling into half guard. Right leg in between Eve’s while her left was free.

 

Even though Eve’s strength was undoubtedly as a grappler Becky didn’t feel an ounce of worry as she began to work. Slowly pressing down on Eve’s face with her forearm and pushing into her face. Trying to just make her uncomfortable so that she would make a mistake that Becky could capitalize on. Patience being key when dealing with an opponent who could submit you from their back.

 

After about ten seconds of grinding her elbow Becky got her moment.

 

Eve quickly tried to regain full guard, but Becky had anticipated the movement and sliced her right knee quickly up and through. In one perfectly timed movement she found herself in a quick mount. Sliding her knees up into Torres’ armpits to make it harder for her to defend and limit her shoulders mobility.

 

The blood from her own cut began to drip down as she began to rain down elbows on Torres’ face. The other woman trying her hardest to bring her arms up and guard against the blows. Twisting her lower body in a show of desperation. Giving up her own back to avoid the hard strikes.

 

For Becky she wished she could have landed more big elbows and punches from the mount, but her killer instinct kicked in at the flailing beneath. Excitement and adrenaline rushing through her.

 

The feel of her prey panicking when they were in a bad position was in some ways better than sex. If Becky had the choice between either she would be hard pressed to pick one.

 

She let herself flow along with Eve’s movement and sunk her legs in to hook around Eve’s midsection. Locking her right foot behind her left knee and squeezing. Tightening her hold a little more with every exhale Eve made.

 

Eve was caught and she knew it. With more than a minute left in the round and a submission specialist on her back there was a small chance she would be able to make it out, but she tried anyway.

 

She tucked her chin as Becky’s right arm tried to sneak under.

 

Becky didn’t bother trying to get her arm under. Changing from a rear-naked choke into a simple neck crank and placing Eve’s chin in the crook of her elbow. Giving every ounce of her energy into just simply squeezing as hard as she could. Feeling her opponents jawbone beginning to creak as she just increased the pressure.

 

Before she knew it she felt a small pop as Eve’s jawbone had enough and gave. The tap coming so quick that Becky didn’t have a moment to think before she was being pulled off. Not even realizing that she had been still holding on.

 

She stood up and looked down at Eve without an ounce of remorse, the last of her anger finally leaving now that it was all over.

 

As she stood there everything hit her at once. The crowd noise filtered back in and she felt the rush of undeniable joy and relief that came when it was over.

 

It was always so much better when you were on the winning end of things but it had never felt like this before. This wasn’t just another victory for her and the rush of emotions both negative and positive made her pause for a moment.

 

Her eyes scanned the crowd and took in the fact that an entire arena was standing up and cheering for her. A moment that just months ago she didn’t know if she would ever feel again.

 

A doctor came over to her and asked her a few questions that Becky didn’t even hear, before poking at the cut on the side of her eye.

 

Becky knew it wasn’t anything significant, but even tiny head wounds bled a lot.

 

She scanned the crowd close to the cage and spotted a familiar face amongst the mass. A game of ‘Where’s Waldo’ made all the easier when her target had such a defining feature.

 

Becky couldn’t help herself and ran towards the cage. Hopping over in a second while the crowd continued to roar. With a wide smile on her face she made a beeline out into the front row. Tucking away the image of shock on Bayley’s face when she realized what was happening.

 

Bayley saw Becky hurrying toward her and for a moment she was confused, unsure what was on the other woman’s mind.

 

“What the-” Ryder asked from beside her but before he could finishing Becky had collided with her.

 

Becky wrapped the surprised reporter in a quick hug. Not caring that she was dripping blood, covered in sweat, and wearing barely anything. Honestly finding the brunette’s awkwardness endearing. Laughing with joy as she fought back tears that she didn’t want to show. The weight that had dropped off her back making her feel lighter and happier than she had since her early years in the sport.

 

Bayley was so stunned at first that she just stood there in Becky’s embrace awkwardly. But, a moment later, her own natural good humor reasserted itself. She had, after all, been secretly rooting for Becky the entire fight. Wrapping her friend up in her arms she turned her head to one side and spoke directly into Becky’s ear: “Welcome back Becky Balboa.”

 

Becky momentarily dropped her head. “Looking forward to the next article.” Quickly extracting herself from the hug when she remembered that she needed to get back into the ring. Liv frantically motioning for her to come back with an amused yet irritated look on her face. “That’s my cue.” Skirting away and back towards the ring. Taking a moment on the edge to just soak in the adulation of the crowd before stepping back inside the open cage door and being rushed by Ruby and Liv inside.

 

Bayley was staring after Becky, still feeling a bit flustered when a motion in the corner of her vision caught her attention. Turning she saw Zach, phone still extended, looking at something on the screen and smiling. “That was pretty cool but...I think you’re gonna be in for it tomorrow,” he said apologetically. It took Bayley a moment to realize what he was hinting at but when she caught on she felt her stomach sink a few inches.

 

“Yeah…” she said, probably too quietly for him to hear over the crowd, as she sat back down and buried her face in her laptop and pretended to work. She did this mostly to avoid the dozens of of other phones and cameras that had been turned in her direction.

 

When the ref raised Becky’s hand she couldn’t stop grinning. Holding back the rest of her emotion for when she was alone as best she could. Although that didn’t stop small cracks from appearing in her armor the longer she remained out here.

 

Goose came up with mic in hand with a smile on his face. “What a tremendous performance under the circumstances. I have to ask, how does it feel to be out here again?”

 

Becky tried to keep a wrap on herself. “Pretty goddamn good. Things got crazy for a while, but the experience of stepping inside this cage is like coming home again.” Stopping for a moment to pull herself back together. “I missed it so fucking much you have no idea.”

 

Becky barely managed to keep it together. Her hands shaking at her sides like they never had during an interview.

 

Charlotte had just been allowed to enter the cage after showing her pass to the security and being let through. Her mood extremely happy after experiencing her gigantic gamble actually pay off.

 

This one win alone would be enough to put the gym back on the map and add to the momentum Bayley had helped start.

 

She kept a close eye on Becky. Not even trying to deny how simultaneously overjoyed and worried she was about the other woman.

 

“Could you try to sum up what this means to you? You’ve haven’t fought in over a year and a half. A very public battle with some demons. How is it to not just be back, but get a victory over a solid opponent?”

 

Charlotte began to worry even more when she saw Becky try several times to answer the question and stopping. Each time her mask of indifference fell a little more.

 

“If you don’t want to answer that’s perfectly fine. This has to be an emotional moment for you.” The interviewer said. Clearly trying to give Becky a moment to get herself back together or decide to cut the interview a little short.

 

Becky tried valiantly to answer but her emotions finally caught up to her now that the adrenaline from the fight wore away and she finally let some of the tears out that had threatening. “Just a little.” She still tried to joke. Pulling one of her gloved hands up to cover her face and try to wipe away the tears as the crowd gave a sympathetic cheer to show her support that Becky still didn’t know she deserved.

 

Charlotte decided to intervene even though she wasn’t sure that Becky wouldn’t simply push her away.

 

Goose seemed to realize that continuing to interview a sobbing woman might not be the best look. Backing away quickly. “Your winner everyone. Becky Lynch!”

 

Charlotte was surprised when Becky took the offered support and allowed the blonde to loop an arm around her torso. Guiding her towards the exit and out of the ring.

 

They made their way to the back slowly. Becky being emotionally and physically exhausted after the charged fight.

 

Becky couldn’t offer any words to show how much she appreciated Charlotte’s silent support. Just leaning her head lightly into the taller woman’s upper shoulder and letting her eyes drift half shut.

 

If it was any other time Becky wouldn’t have allowed herself to relax so quickly after a fight, but she found herself immediately feeling better.

 

She felt like she had found something with Charlotte, Bayley and the other’s that had been missing.

 

Becky couldn’t help but luxuriate in the perfectly soft yet somehow perfectly firm body pressing into her side and helping her towards the locker room. Charlotte was starting to remind her of home and she was too exhausted to get upset by that.

 

**Sasha**

 

As Sasha and Zelina returned to their condo in Boston neither was in the best mood.

 

Sasha had just endured an excruciating dinner with Zelina and the ‘Boss-Z’ producers. She’d been content to zone out during the discussions of the arrangements for following Zelina through he dress fitting and other stops in the lead up the wedding. She’d been MUCH less pleased when Zelina had suggested that Sasha be a more active part of these things.

 

“Can’t, I’m training,” Sasha had said dismissively into her third glass of wine.

 

“Still?!” Zelina had wined. Even Sasha, who was FAR from a low maintenance person, was annoyed by this.

 

“I’m ALWAYS training, there is ALWAYS another fight coming. You remember those right? The things that pay for your shit?” Sasha had snapped. Causing the other people at the table to look uncomfortable.

 

Zelina looked offended, her mouth open before she narrowed her eyes and said: “I can’t believe you said that to me, I’m your fiance!”

 

“What do you do again?” Sasha shot back.

 

The dinner didn’t get much easier from there. Sasha refused to allow more show access to her training or to curtail it. Zelina fumed and the producers argued but Sasha held firm. The irony of the whole situation was that Sasha, at one time, had seriously considered trying to launch her own reality show. One that would follow her as she trained. But, as always, her automatic reaction to being pushed was to push back.

 

In the end, Zelina had been forced admit her defeat. Sasha knew she should probably have tried to make some sort of gesture to her girlfriend, they did live together after all. But she was simply in no mood. And the source of her dark temper wasn’t entirely, or even mostly centered on the drama surrounding the show.

 

No, it was something much more profound. Sasha was realizing that, despite living with a beautiful woman, she was alone. She couldn’t talk to Zelina about what they’d just been through. They never did that sort of thing. Their relationship was almost transactional, Sasha got what she wanted and Zelina got what she wanted, but there wasn't much actual connection. None, really.

 

Sasha had only ever felt that for one other woman.

 

Not for the first time she thought about just breaking it off with Zelina. But this was enough to scare even her. Their lives had become so interconnected and there was so much invested in them by others that the idea of ending it was daunting. But there was something else to it as well. Sasha had, she admitted, proposed to Zelina mostly out of pique, a stubborn desire to strike back at the world. Ending things, admitting she’d made a mistake, would also mean admitting she was wrong. Sasha Banks had never been good at that.

 

The Boss didn’t do it at all.

 

Sasha was trapped, well and truly. No matter how much her spirit raged against this, she knew it was true. She would end up married to a woman she didn’t really even like but just enjoyed having sex with and even that was fading. And this would happen simply because she was too stubborn to say no. It was like laying on a conveyor belt heading toward a smelter. But, Sasha COULD get off this conveyer belt, though her stubborn nature wouldn’t allow it.

 

Sighing, Sasha tossed the dress she’d been wearing aside and poured herself another glass of wine, which she knocked back quickly. Pouring herself another glass she grabbed her headphones from the dresser, synched them to her phone, and slid them over her ears. She selected a song by her favorite artist, Iiconic Fangirl, and flopped back onto the bed clad only in her underwear with her legs hanging to the floor.

 

Sasha lay there with her eyes closed for she didn’t know how long. All she knew was that her eyes only opened when she felt someone else get onto the bed next to her. Looking up she suddenly found herself staring into the eyes of Zelina Vega. The shorter woman had clambered onto their bed and was now straddling Sasha.

 

Sasha reached slowly up and removed her headphones in time to hear Zelina say: “I’m so sorry baby.”

 

“ _No, you’re not_ ,” a voice carrying absolute conviction suddenly spoke up inside Sasha’s head. Even as Sasha’s hands automatically found Zelina’s hips. “Oh yeah?” she asked the beautiful woman straddling her.

 

“I am, I mean it,” Zelina said with a sweet smile.

 

“ _No, you don’t_ ,” the same voice whispered to Sasha. Looking up Sasha noted that Zelina wasn’t wearing the same bra and panties she’d had on when they left, she’d changed into an outfit that she knew Sasha loved.

 

“I just...I’m just so excited to be married to you, I want it all to be perfect, baby,” Zelina cooed as she traced fingertips over Sasha’s abdomen.

 

“ _No! You just want to use me to get famous!_ ” the voice shouted to Sasha who, for her part just stared up at Zelina. She stared for a very long time until something broke inside her. It broke at the same moment she realized that the voice in her head had been speaking in Bayley’s voice.

 

“Kneel...bitch,” Sasha told Zelina quietly. The other woman’s smile turned wicked as she slowly slid down Sasha’s body and off the bed. Sasha could feel Zelina kneeling between her legs but didn’t bother to look up. Instead, she just put her headphones back on and turned the volume up.

 

She knew that she’d probably end up giving Zelina whatever she wanted by the end of the night. She also knew that she didn’t care right now. She was lonely, but she’d have to take what she could get.

 

Hours later, well after she’d exhausted Zelina into a deep sleep, Sasha was still awake.

 

She’d locked herself in the master bathroom of the condo and, despite being eleven stories up and it being nighttime, she made sure to use the remote to turn the windows opaque. She sat on the edge of the black marble bath with her phone out. As a final precaution she opened both taps of the sink before she thumbed through the menus to find her phone’s voicemails.

 

Finding the one she was seeking she pressed play:

 

_“Hey Sash, it’s Bay. Sorry I couldn’t make it today, I was really looking forward to seeing you but...work, you know how it is. Anyway, I’ll text you later OK?....You make me so happy Sasha, I want you to know that. OK, catch ya later.”_

 

As Bayley’s tiny mechanical voice cut off, Sasha just stared down at her phone, at the transcription of the same message she’d just listened to. A moment later, she hit play again.

 

_“Hey Sash, it’s Bay…”_

 

As Sasha listened she pressed her free hand firmly over her mouth as the tears began to flow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews, kudos, and views! These last few chapters have been some pretty large ones and we are grateful for everyone that takes the time to read through. 
> 
> Anywho, how about this one. Becky finally gets back into the cage and has a dominant victory. Where does that set her up and who will be her next fight? Bayley just continues to try her best, but none of the other 4HW are making it easy on her. We all saw how Bayley acted when her journalistic integrity was called into question with Sasha. Will she have a different tactic when dealing with Becky and their friendship? How will Charlotte react once they get back to Boston now that the attention is all on Becky and her gym? And last but certainly not least; What the hell is up with Sasha and will she ever admit out loud what she really knows?
> 
> So much happened and as always we would love to hear what you thought about it, and what you think will happen in the future. We have some plans in place and let me just tell you, Becky's life is about to become filled with bliss.


	8. Chapter 8: The Price of Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte makes a hard decision as she tries to oversee her gym's transition
> 
> Becky fights some old demons even as she rides a success
> 
> Bayley is forced to evaluate her future
> 
> Sasha is forced to confront both the boss and what is important to her

**Sasha**

 

*Boss-Z return from commercial music, followed by on-screen text reading: Kapolei, Hawaii*

 

*Scene shifts to Zelina, speaking directly the camera in her confessional*

 

Zelina: * _squeals in excitement*_ I am SO EXCITED! We’re here in Hawaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii for Sasha to shoot her commercial for Clex’s and the I’m going to have three days here all to myself before I have to go back to Boston! *rolls her eyes*

 

*Scene shifts to a one following Sasha as she approaches the front doors of Clex’s HQ having a conversation with Teddy, Zelina trails behind looking down at her phone*

 

Sasha: “...right so a couple hours here and then what?”

 

Teddy Long: “We gotta get you on a plane playa, you’ve got that fitting with the Savage7 people to get you ready for Platys.”

 

Sasha: *Stops abruptly* “What the *censor bleep* are the platys?”

 

Teddy: “We talked about this Sasha, it’s that video game award show. You’re doing the red carpet and then presenting an award for best fighting game.”

 

Sasha: “*Censor Bleep* You want me to spend a whole *censor bleep* night surrounded by shut-in sweaty nerds?”

 

Teddy: “It’s good PR playa. Besides, you said you wanted me to work you toward a movie and that means keeping you in front of people.”

 

Sasha: “Whatever.”

 

*Camera follows them into the building as a woman approaches*

 

“Hello my is Melina Perez, I’m Ms. Morrison’s assistant, it’s so nice to meet you Ms. Banks, Mr. Long,” she said as she displayed an improbable amount of teeth in her smile.

 

“Ms.Perez, it’s nice to meet you in person, my client is here and she’s eager to-” Teddy stated to say before Sasha cut him off.

 

“Wait, wait, wait...who is Ms. Morrison?” she asked. Melina looked confused at this.

 

“Why...our founder and owner, of course, Clex Morrison,” she answered tentatively.

 

“Her last name is Morrison?”

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

“Huh...they always just call her ‘Clex’ I just assumed it was mononym.”

 

“No, she’s happily married to her husband John,” Melina said as she beckoned for them to follow. Sasha did but didn’t remove her sunglasses.

 

“So, Ms. Perez, are we shooting the commercial here?” Zelina asked from behind Sasha.

 

“Yes, Ms. Morrison thought it would be best if we shot in in our corporate cafeteria,” Perez answered.

 

“What’s the plan for the commercial itself?” Teddy asked.

 

“For that, I think I’ll let our director, Joey Mercury, fill you in.”

 

Sasha shrugged, it didn’t really matter much to her. She’d shot dozens of commercials all over the world by now and they all tended to be pretty similar. This was the main reason why she’d chosen to wear her boss sunglasses, rings, and necklace today. People wanted the boss to push their products, so they’d get her.

 

When they arrived at the cafeteria even Sasha was impressed. The room was enormous with one wall dominated by panoramic windows. These opened out onto a patio which in turned was surrounded by a dense group of tropical trees and plants. Inside the cafeteria, the wall opposite the windows contained a wide array of various culinary offerings and, of course, a fully functioning Clex’s franchise. The walls were line with the flags of every state and country that Clex’s was currently in while the furniture all look far nice and more comfortable than you’d usually find in a cafeteria.

 

“Ah, and here he is. Mr. Mercury, this is Sasha Banks and her manager Teddy Long,” Perez said by way of introduction as a man with long brown hair approached them.

 

“Nice to meet you both I’m Joey Mercury and-” before he could finish speaking he was cut off by a surprisingly loud throat clearing by Zelina. For a woman of her size, she could really announce herself.

 

*Scene shifts back to Zelina in her confessional looking affronted*

 

“I can’t believe she didn’t introduce me like...wow. OK, I guess I’m just your arm candy now huh? UGH, we’re supposed to be a TEAM, I love her and she doesn’t even acknowledge me!”

 

*Scene shifts back the cafeteria where Sasha is frowning though her glasses hide her eyes*

 

“This is my girlfriend-” she started to say.

 

“Fiance,” Zelina interrupted as she held up her engagement ring, which half the size of a grape.

 

“...Zelina Vega,” Sasha finished, sounding annoyed now.

 

“Nice to meet you as well ma’am,” Mercury said before beginning to outline his plan to Sasha. He wanted her to walk around the cafeteria once it filled for lunch, taking pictures, signing autographs, and introducing people to Clex’s newest creation: “The Boss BBQ Bowl.”

 

As Sasha looked through the notes she’d been handed she frowned, asking: “How do I pronounce these words?”

 

“There is a pronunciation guide on the bottom for you...” Mercury said, “...once we’re done here we’ll go out into Kapolei and do the same thing on the street for awhile then we’ll shoot the close with you and that will be that.”

 

“That sounds great to BOTH of us...” Zelina said, stepping forward and sliding her arm through Sasha’s. Mercury looked confused and was clearly about to explain that he’d only meant for Sasha to be in the commercial but Sasha stepped in.

 

“Yeah, just let her,” she said, mostly just hoping to avert one of Zelina’s tantrums. Mercury still didn’t look convinced by then Teddy cleared his throat.

 

“It’s a good win with the LGBTQ community playa,” he said simply.

 

Mercury obviously decided that he didn’t want to argue with both Sasha and Teddy, never mind Zelina. Over the next few hours Sasha must have approached dozens of people both in the cafeteria and then out on the street with the same formula. She would introduce herself, submit to any photos or autographs, then she’d offer them one of the new bowls and try to coax them into saying something positive. For her part, Zelina interjected whenever she could.

 

They closed with Sasha, finally, alone in the frame. After hitting her boss pose she lifted her glasses up onto her head and said: “I’m the Boss and this bowl is legit!” She held her smile for a few moments and then let it drop completely as Mercury called for a cut.

 

**Bayley**

 

“That’s enough of that,” Bayley said in her hotel room in Boston as she muted the TV and let herself drop back onto her bed. She had no idea why she was torturing herself this way but she’d been unable to resist the impulse to watch some of Sasha’s new show. It had been every bit as terrible as she’d feared. Sasha was coming off looking aloof and rude while Zelina was clearly being positioned as the ‘good guy’ in the relationship.

 

Looking back up at the TV Bayley saw that show was going to a commercial, as it did there a picture of Sasha standing with arms folded smirking at the camera.

 

“I miss you,” Bayley told the Sasha on the screen before turning the TV off as Sasha’s Clex’s commercial actually began to play. Shutting off the lamp next to her bed Bayley consoled herself by thinking that, at least this would her worst interaction with media for awhile.

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

Becky peeked around the gym. Only seeing Bayley across sitting down with her laptop, typing furiously away. Her tongue just poking out from between her lips as she focused.

 

She had been on suspension from sparring both officially from the Nevada commission and somewhat unofficially, but no less serious Charlotte. Who had been steadfast in Becky avoiding any physical contact in workouts for at least two weeks after the fight. No matter the fact that Becky hadn’t sustained any real damage besides a superficial cut on the eye line that was already basically non-existent just a few days after.

 

Looking across the ring at Liv she raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

 

Liv had been holding mitts for Becky. Just working on some standard boxing combos.

 

“Come on Liv. Just some light sparring. I promise to go easy on you!” Becky grinned when she saw Liv pick herself up at the verbal jab. The tiny woman never liking it when anyone underestimated her. Which being around her girlfriend who was covered in tattoos and looked like a genuine badass happened quite a lot.

 

“Fine! But don’t go whining to Charlotte when I knock you on your ass.”

 

Becky grinned as Liv jumped out of the ring to put on a pair of gloves.

 

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Boomed throughout the gym and even Becky looked a little guilty at being caught. Ric walking up to the ring with hands on his hips. Shooting Becky an incredulous look while he shook his head in disapproval. “The rules are there for a reason. No sparring means absolutely NO sparring! Don’t have to be smart to get that.”

 

“Come on Ric! You of all people got to understand. Just let me throw down a lil’ bit. I’m sick of drilling. I need to get better and the best way to do that is by fighting.” Becky pleaded.

 

“And to fight you need to be save your brain unnecessary punishment. It’s only another three days Becky. Don’t risk your health over your own vanity.” Ric solemnly spoke. Trying to impart a lesson the redhead didn’t want to hear right now.

 

“I thought you would take my side on this one,” Becky said. Looking at Ric like he was the biggest asshole on the planet. “You’re a hypocrite.”

 

“Becky!” Liv hissed.

 

Ric waved away her concern. “Let her.” Standing his ground and regarding the angry fighter with a cool stare.

 

Becky continued. “How many rules did you break in your old glory days? Huh? I’m waiting. I’m sure it will take a while.”

 

“This isn’t about me and the mistakes I made. It’s about what’s best for you.”

 

“Which mistake are you on Ric? How many ex-wives are you paying?”

  
Ric sighed. “More than I’d like. I don’t want you to end up like I did. I have Charlotte but… She’s all I have besides this gym. I pissed away more good things in my life than you ever will.”

 

Becky ripped off her gloves and threw them on the ground. “Whatever. I’m done with this shit.” She declared. Walking off towards the women’s locker room and exiting the room without a backwards glance. Part of her already realizing that she was acting like a child who was told they couldn’t have any ice cream, but not wanting to admit it. At least not now. She’d apologize to Ric later.

 

Bayley had tried her best to keep busy during the argument, though it was hard to ignore it. It was even less plausible for her to pretend as though she hadn’t heard it at all as she hadn’t even had her earbuds in.

 

“Liv, you’re doing great work darling,” Bayley heard Ric say as she tried to refocus on the article she was writing. It was a fairly straight forward summary piece on Becky’s latest fight but for some reason, the words just wouldn't cooperate in her mind. She’d started and deleted her opening more times than she could remember.

 

“ _Maldita sea,”_ she muttered as she tired once more typing: “ _Sometimes life seems primed to throw a curveball at you, things seem to be lining up a bit TOO perfectly. But then, it surprises you and things go to plan-”_

 

“Hey, there’s my favorite reporter,” Ric Flair’s voice suddenly sounded from immediately in front of her causing Bayley to jump.

 

“ _SANTA MIERDA!”_ she gasped as she put a hand over her heart.

 

The elder Flair gave her a bemused glance for a while before saying, in perfect Spanish: “ _Lo Siento te asusté?”_

 

Bayley blinked in surprise before answering in the same language: “ _¿tu hablas español?”_

 

_“Si, Mi tercera esposa era puertorriqueña,”_

 

Bayley took a moment to adjust to this new information before nodding. “ _Is there a reason why we’re still speaking in Spanish?”_ she asked in that language.

 

_“Very good Bayley, yes there is.”_

 

_“Care to share?”_

 

_“Well, you weren’t doing a very good job of pretending that you didn’t hear what just went on…”_

 

Bayley flushed as she said: “ _I didn’t know I was supposed to.”_

 

_“Don’t worry about it darling, my point is that you’re caught up.”_

 

_“I suppose.”_

 

 _“Look, I know neither of them does much of a job of showing it but both Becky and Charlotte really love having you here.”_ Flair said.

 

Bayley just nodded and waited, this couldn’t have been the only thing he wanted to say or he wouldn’t have insisted on having the conversation in Spanish. Though that insistence was enough that she was slightly worried.

 

“ _And...even if they don’t show it, they also both need you around here. The way Charlotte’s been talking it seems like you’re becoming important to her, though I bet she hasn’t said anything about it to you?”_

 

Bayley shook her head but didn’t speak for a moment. She certainly felt something similar for Charlotte but the idea of discussing it with the other woman somehow felt odd. She thought for awhile before asking: _“Why are you telling me this?”_

 

Flair gave her that trademark smile of his. An expression that, even at his present age, made clear to Bayley how he’d manage to convince so many women to marry him. “ _I just wanted SOMEONE to tell you how appreciated you are and to ask you not to give up on them, I know how frustrating they can be.”_

 

It was on the tip of Bayley’s tongue to say something like ‘I don’t give up on people’. But, given her current situation with Sasha, she wasn’t sure that was even true. So she decided to just nod and say: “ _I won’t. I like them both too much to do that.”_

 

“That’s my girl,” Flair said, switching back to English. He gave her a wink then before sauntering off, no doubt seeking someone else to charm. Bayley smiled weakly but it faded into a frown. Nothing that had been said was upsetting in and of itself, so why did feel like she’d just said goodbye?

 

**Becky**

 

Becky had never felt more out of place in her life. Put her in a cage with someone that wanted to take her head off and she was fine. Yet this relatively mundane task in front of her seemed more insurmountable than any fight ever had. The two people sitting to her right somehow more intimidating than the prospect of fighting Sasha again, with both hand tied behind her back.

 

They had come at her like sharks. Offering their hands to shake with overly cheery smiles that no person right in the head should be capable of this early in the morning.

 

Truth be told Becky would have rather skipped the trip altogether, but Charlotte had employed Ruby and Liv’s assistance in making her get up at the ungodly hour of 3 a.m., shoving her into a car and driving her up to New York City for a ‘Good Morning America’ interview with John Cena and Lacey Evans. Quite literally the two faces of the company. As evidenced by the billboards sprinkled all around the city.

 

Becky picked at the old hole in her jeans as they waited for the commercial break to be over. Pulling her trademark leather jacket closer. Hands shoved deep in the pockets to hide the clenched fists inside. The interview not exactly going how she hoped it would, but trying her best for Charlotte’s sake to put on a good front.

 

Since the fight Charlotte had seemed in a much better mood. Almost acting like an entirely different person at times. Going as far as actually teasing Becky once or twice without a hint of real venom beneath. The blonde’s smile dazzlingly bright when it was real and pointed at her for once.

 

Becky found herself going out of her way to keep Charlotte in such an upbeat mood. Little things like offering the blonde a spot in her class. Jokingly of course. Some would even say she was being flirtatious but Becky saw it differently. This way just her trying to keep Charlotte off her back, and if keeping her in a good mood did that, then Becky was just playing along. Nothing deeper than that.

 

That attitude led her to accept this interview. Knowing that even though Charlotte wouldn’t force her, this type of exposure on national television would be good for the gym. The grateful smile she received in return had nothing to do with her decision.

 

Who was Becky kidding. She looked up as the commercial was nearing its end and her eyes automatically found the tall blonde standing in the back. Watching over the interview like a prowling lion. Blonde mane looking extraordinarily luscious and thick today. Charlotte having been up even earlier than Becky to prepare. Looking entirely put together when Becky had first seen her while still dressed in just an old oversized gray shirt and sleeping shorts. Feeling entirely underdressed when compared to the tall woman.

 

“And we are back here with Becky Lynch; Former champion and current fighter coming off her dramatic and dominant victory this past weekend.” Lacey began to speak. Catching Becky a little off guard as the break ended. Her mind still thinking about Charlotte rather than the interview she was a part of. “Now we’ve talked a little about your fighting career, but one thing I really want to know is how you manage to still look so good when you literally get punched in the face for a living.” Lacey and John laughing in perfect unison at her question.

 

Becky should have expected more of the same type of questions, but she could help herself from getting more irritated as Cena or Evans asked more about trivial nonsense and her personal life than anything fight related. Obviously more interested in getting a more humanizing piece on her than talking about her fights. “I try not to get hit if I can help it. Beyond that though I don’t really care. As long as I win I could care less if my nose is pointing at my ear.”

 

“Oh my! That just might sting a little! There was one time with this guy named Seth… I shouldn’t go into it. It was a long time ago.” Cena charmingly spoke. The odd visual of such a large man shoved into a three-piece suit made Becky a little uncomfortable. Especially considering how insanely enthusiastic he was about the most inane things. “Besides I think we need to ask another question your fight brought up.”

 

“OOOOOOHHHH!!! Ask her John! I’m dying to know!” Lacey squealed loudly. Making Becky close her eyes and wishing she had a pair of noise-canceling headphones right now.

 

“Hold your horses Lacey. You can’t rush these things.” John teased, mugging to the camera like a moron. “We all saw you jump out of the cage and quickly jump right on Bayley Martinez. A journalist who has been following you around for the last few months of your life for a series of articles our viewers could find on her website MM-Ayley.com. Some have claimed a romance between you two developed over her time embedded in your gym. So--”

 

Lacey cut him off, “We want to know if you and Ms. Martinez are together!” Her voice so full of energy that Becky could swear she must have had at least a gallon of coffee to be so chipper. “You looked so cute together! And fighting must be so lonely. You deserve someone special! Especially after that Carmella girl.”

 

Becky opened her mouth to respond, but John jumped in to banter with Lacey. Turning towards her and joking: “Talk about getting an exclusive inside scoop on a story. This Bayley girl sure knows how to get ahead.” Both hosts once again laughing in perfect unison like zombies. Or Pavlov's dog. Trained to laugh automatically at a certain cadence and tone rather than the content.

 

“You’re a piece of shit,” Becky spoke deathly serious, just loud enough to be picked up on the mic.

 

The studio falling into silence when Lacey and John stopped in mid-laugh. Quickly giving Becky a sideways look as if to say, ‘What the hell?’

 

Becky saw Charlotte out of the corner of her eye. Presumably motioning for her to stop and not go down this road, but Becky couldn’t let Cena get away with insinuating something like that about her friend. Cheapening and minimizing her achievements by implying she slept with Becky just to get ahead in her career.

 

The Irish woman leaned forward in her chair and pulled her fists out of her pocket. Pointing one finger at John as she addressed him. “Bayley is a damn good journalist and doesn’t need people like you to imply she slept with me just to get a story.” Becky continued to rant as everyone in the studio collectively raised their eyebrows.

 

Even the producers looking around not really knowing what to do. After all, would they look horrible for cutting Becky’s mic just for defending Bayley’s honor? Even if she was swearing, no one wanted to take the responsibility of facing a possible onslaught of negativity for stopping her. The goodwill Becky had gained back since her last fight and emotional post-fight interview making many very sympathetic to the fighter.

 

“We happened to get along. Big fucking deal.” Becky said. Leaning back in her chair and trying to control her anger. “To answer your question; We aren’t together, but I’d like to think I could still consider her a friend. Bayley deserves better. Someone who is as amazing as she is and would treat her right. Talk shit about me all you want, but leave her name out of your mouth if all you’re gonna do is spout a bunch of shit. So, excuse me if I tell John to shut his face for the rest of the interview. In fact, if I didn’t see him at all, that would best for both of us. ”

 

John and Lacey sat with their mouths open. Silently watching in horror as Becky took over their show.

 

Lacey was able to find her voice first. Turning towards the camera and forcing a smile. “That was Becky Lynch. Now it’s time for Glenn Jacobs with the weather. Take it away Glenn!” She said with desperation. Just wanting to get off camera.

 

The show switched over to an image of a giant man in a black suit. Sitting down on a chair while images of the weather map appeared behind on the green screen. His face covered in a white facial mask while his eyes remained closed.

 

From off-screen, “Glenn! GLENN! You’re live! Lacey cut early!”

 

**Bayley/Charlotte**

 

Bayley was sitting crossed legged on one of the benches in the Flair Gym’s men’s locker room working away on her story. Inspiration had finally come and she’d nearly finished the piece. Leaning over she opened one of the unused lockers where she’d taken to storing things and withdrew a diet coke from the cooler she kept there. It was her major addiction and she’d heard Becky grumbling about the number of ‘bloody bottles’ that she generated.

 

Smiling to herself she was about to turn her music back on when her phone buzzed. Picking it up she saw that she had a text from Charlotte. She frowned as she looked down at her phone, that was odd. Usually if Charlotte wanted her she’d just knock on the door to the locker room, though Bayley had noted she never actually entered it. She just assumed this was a weird hang-up of her friend’s.

 

“ _Can you come up to my office please,”_ was all the message said. This puzzled Bayley still further. Charlotte Flair wasn’t the type to pepper her messages with emojis but this was clinical even for her.

 

“ _On my way,”_ she sent back before she quickly packed up and made sure to grab a particular package out of another locker. A moment later she emerged and saw two new people standing near the bottom of the stairs that led up Charlotte’s office. One was a taller black woman with long blonde hair and the other was a shorter woman with dark brown hair. Bayley was certain she’d never met either of them but for some reason they seemed familiar.

 

“Hi,” she said awkwardly as she passed between them, receiving tight smiles but no other response in return. The stairs seemed to take longer than usual today but when she reached the top she knocked gently on the familiar door.

 

“Come on in.” Charlotte’s strong voice carried through the door. Feeling far stronger and more assured than she felt on the inside. Not looking forward to the coming conversation one bit. The friendship she and Bayley had developed making this feel like a deep betrayal, even though Charlotte knew it was just business.

 

Only, it’s hard to keep things strictly business when you begin mixing in a personal relationship. Charlotte was realizing once again why she tried to avoid such a combination.

 

“ _Una cerveza, por favor,”_ Bayley said with a grin as she ducked inside only to stop short on realizing they weren’t alone. There was a short blonde woman standing in front of Charlotte’s desk. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize anyone else was here. I’m Bayley Martinez,” she said in a friendly tone as she offered a hand.

 

“I’m aware. Alexa Bliss.” The blonde offered. Holding out her own steady hand and grabbing a strong hold of Bayley’s. Shaking hands with form that seemed like it could be taught in a school.

 

Bayley brightened as recognition flashed in her brain. “Oh yeah! You’re the PR agent who was working with Baron Corbin before the NFL draft! They’re saying you got him bumped from a 2nd day pick into the first,” she said eagerly.

 

“Well at least you get your news from a reputable place. Corbin is one of my greatest success stories. He made six million more PER YEAR because of me. I know what I’m doing.” Alexa stated matter of fact. A hint of the massive chip she clearly carried on her shoulder.

 

“She’s here to work with Becky and help with the influx of attention she’s getting. The gym is getting busier again thanks to all the good press you’ve helped bring in and I can’t juggle Becky and the gym anymore.” Charlotte rapidly explained. Trying to lessen the guilt she found churning in her gut.

 

“Well, great!” Bayley said she’d been expecting something much worse than this given how Charlotte had summoned her. “So...what can I do for you?” she asked.

 

Charlotte wanted to speak up and maybe soften the blow or be diplomatic about it, but Alexa beat her to it. “We need Ms. Lynch to be focused on the big picture. Which means cutting out unnecessary distractions. You.” Alexa pointed at Bayley. “Are a potential distraction we don’t need.”

 

Bayley’s mouth dropped open at this. She was so stunned that she was deprived of speech for a moment. Looking back and forth between Charlotte and Alexa she finally asked, in a voice gone ashen: “Excuse me?”

 

“We are asking you politely to leave. Your deal was to come in through Ms. Lynch’s first fight. That has come and gone.” Alexa bluntly stated. Looking down at her phone briefly and typing out a quick message while she continued to address Bayley. “We don’t need a reporter in house when we have ESPN, CBS, HBO and others knocking on our door for a crack at Ms. Lynch.”

 

Charlotte awkwardly continued to sit down. Trying to keep her face straight. Not liking how this felt, but knowing that from a business perspective Alexa made a lot of strong points.

 

“So...I know you don’t pay me so you can’t technically fire me but...that’s what this is feeling like…” Bayley said, looking from Alexa and then desperately to Charlotte hoping that someone would correct her.

 

“We’re not firing you.” Charlotte just managed to say. Twiddling her thumbs on top of the desk.

 

“If it would make it easier we could phrase it that way though.” Alexa butted in. With what she may actually have thought was a nice offer.

 

Not looking at Alexa now Bayley focused on Charlotte who, to her disappointment, was still looking down at her desk. “We?” was all she asked, somehow knowing that Charlotte would pick up on her meaning.

 

Charlotte gulped around the lump in her throat and looked up for a moment before she couldn’t meet Bayley’s eyes any longer.

 

“WE talked about it and came to the conclusion that it was best if you weren’t embedded in the gym. Ms. Lynch is my number one priority and rest assured I am doing what is in the best interest for her future.” Alexa spoke up with more intensity. Her professional mask holding firm. “WE decided it would be for the greater good to go this route.”

 

Bayley was still ignoring the PR agent as she continued to stare directly at Charlotte before asking, quietly: “Are you going to say anything?”

 

Charlotte took a deep breath and tried her best to meet Bayley’s eyes, but instead tried to focus on a point just to her right. “You’ve been a great help to the gym and we wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” Barely holding herself together when she saw Bayley’s face drop.

 

Bayley closed her eyes and let a slow breath, refusing to let herself show anything of what she was feeling. If being close to first Sasha Banks and then Becky Lynch had given her any skill at all it was that.

 

“Okay…” she said, mostly to herself as she stood. She was about to turn to leave when she remembered something, something that nearly broke her mask of calm. Reaching down into her bag she withdrew a small wrapped parcel and set it slowly on Charlotte’s desk. “I know it’s a few days early but...happy birthday Charlotte,” she said quietly before she strode out of the room with her head high.

 

Charlotte eyed the carefully wrapped present on her desk like it was a bomb. Which in a way, it may as well have been.

 

She could hardly stop herself from shaking. The whole scenario feeling utterly wrong to her on an emotional level, even though she rationally knew that Alexa had made a lot of good points.

 

Even so, Bayley had wormed her way into Charlotte’s life without her knowing. She hadn’t been upset by it. Quite the opposite in fact. The companionship and support had been something that ‘Charlotte the person’ sorely needed. Even if ‘Business Charlotte’ didn’t.

 

“Well that went better than you thought. I told you it would be a good idea to do this when Lynch wasn’t around.” Alexa assuredly spoke. Knowing with all her heart that she was always the smartest person in the room.

 

“Yeah.” Charlotte managed to get out. Still eyeing the parcel on her desk with trepidation. “You mind clearing out for a minute. I have to make a call.”

 

Alexa seemed to accept the dismissal easily. Already nose deep in her phone. Never a moment where the diminutive blonde wasn’t working hard on something. “Sure. Remember the appointment tomorrow. We need to try and ease Ms. Lynch into this and avoid a tantrum.”

 

Charlotte waited till she had left before she stretched out a hand to grab onto the present. Half expecting to be burned by it after behaving so callously towards the woman generous enough to think of her.

 

No such burning occurred and she pulled it across the desk. Rotating it between her hands before carefully peeling away the wrapping. Taking note of how much effort Bayley put into making the wrap perfect. Like the kind of present you would see on display at a fancy toy store during the holidays with a fancy bow on top to complete the look.

 

Bringing an unbidden half smile to Charlotte’s face that was marred by the shame that was slowly but surely growing inside.

 

With the wrapping peeled away, Charlotte took notice first of a beginner’s Spanish-English dictionary with a note pinned in between the pages poking out the top. Placing it down on the desk and looking at the other thing Bayley had included.

 

A beautiful ornate hand crafted frame surrounding a picture of her and Bayley smiling like idiots into the camera. Charlotte’s hand quickly coming up to cover her mouth as she tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to overtake her. Remembering the moment on the plane to Vegas when Bayley had finally pestered her enough to agree and take the picture. Although in hindsight, Charlotte had to admit that even though she hated taking pictures Bayley had managed to capture an actual genuine smile on both faces.

 

Traitorous tears trickled off her cheeks down to her hand and Charlotte closed her eyes tightly against the ones that followed. Gently placing the frame back down on her desk before her shaking hand dropped it and shattered the glass.

 

She slid the dictionary closer and pulled the note from where it was pinned. Unfurling it and opening her eyes to be greeted with a page full of Spanish writing that was signed at the bottom with a big loopy ‘Bayley’ signature.

 

Charlotte looked back at the dictionary and sniffled. Understanding what Bayley intended and had tried to share with her.

 

Her focus shifted back to the letter and Charlotte felt a curiosity about what Bayley would have written to her. And even though she knew it would hurt Charlotte made a vow that she would translate these words herself. Even though she could easily pay a Spanish speaker to do it for her, Charlotte felt obliged to struggle through and do it herself.

 

_Oye Gringa,_

 

_Sé que probablemente solo pasará esto a través de google pero aún así, me alegro de que haya hecho el esfuerzo._

 

_Cuando me enviaste ese video, me sentía muy triste por mi carrera y por casi todo. Así que cuando vine aquí esperaba, tal vez incluso esperando, encontrar una gran historia. No esperaba encontrarme con uno de mis mejores amigos. Siempre estaré agradecido a Charlotte._

 

_Amor_

 

_Bayley_

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

Her entire body moved robotically on top of the aerodyne bike. Arms pumping in conjunction with her legs with no real thought. Moving along at a relatively sedate pace. Becky wasn’t really thinking about the workout, far more concerned with what she was listening to on her headphones. Staring blindly out in front while she heard Finn answer questions about her on Mojo Rawley’s podcast.

 

 _“What did you think about Lynch’s technique? She seemed pretty sharp in there. Any reservations about kicking her off the team?”_ Mojo pressed. Already having asked a number of questions earlier that broached this topic which Finn had brushed away. Finn had gotten progressively more terse with the questions. At first simply offering a swift _, ‘No comment.’_

 

_“Not one. If you saw her back then, you’d know it was the best decision at the time.”_

 

_“So, does that mean you would welcome her back now that she has shown she can fight at a professional level again?”_

 

Becky continued to pedal.

 

_“No. Not a chance right now. I’m not wishing her anything bad, but CCS is fully committed to Nikki Cross and it just wouldn’t be a good idea to bring that sort of energy around. I don’t want Nikki to end up like Becky. On some level I feel like I failed Becky back then. I wonder if I could have done or said something before she fell so far. But I had to eventually move on. Becky made her own decisions back then and she has to deal with the consequences.”_

 

Her peddling dwindled off as Mojo transitioned into talking about Finn’s victory over Adrian Neville later in the night. Tearing the headphones out of her ear and tossing her phone on top of her bag. Just sitting on the bike unmoving for a few seconds as she took several unsteady inhales of fresh air.

 

Becky’s attention was pulled across the gym when she spotted the familiar head of blonde hair standing tall. Walking towards her with an almost comically tiny blonde in comparison at her side. A streak of pink in her hair that had Becky raising an eyebrow as they approached. Dressed in a fashionable black dress that accentuated her ample curves.

 

“Protesting your dad not letting you go to prom?” Becky prodded. Pointing at the pink hair and grinning stupidly as she got off the bike. Dabbing the sweat off her brow with a towel and tossing it over her shoulder.

 

The tiny blonde gave her a quick once over. Her face clearly showing how unimpressed she was. Scoffing audibly and turning to address only Charlotte. “This won’t be easy”

 

“I never said it would, but I need the help. SHE needs the help.” Charlotte replied. “You saw the interview.”

 

“I had to wash my eyes with bleach afterwards.” Alexa said. Her arms crossed over her chest. “Alicia will start on her new diet tomorrow. Mickie and I will start up on… Everything else.” Giving Becky another glance head to toe and shaking her head. “We’ll need to get her a new wardrobe too. Can’t have her going out looking like a homeless wannabe rockstar.”

 

“HEY! I’m right here bitch. If your going to insult me at least do it to my face.” Becky broke in loudly. “Who da fuck are ya anyway?”

 

“BECKY!” Charlotte hissed. “Behave.” The blonde finding herself pleasantly surprised when the fighter actually listened to her. Falling quiet and softening her glare at Alexa ever so slightly. But at least she wasn’t trying to pick a fight anymore. “This is Alexa Bliss. She’s been able to help other athletes with similar… difficulties dealing with media.”

 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Becky muttered.

 

“Becky you need to understand, everything has gotten a lot busier since your fight. All that hard work is starting to pay off but that also means that things have grown and I need to bring in some extra help. Alexa is here because I trust her reputation. She can help you Becky. Trust me. Things are only going to get busier for you too. I just want you to be ready for everything the media might throw at you. Not everyone will be as easy to deal with as Bayley was.” Charlotte explained softly. Becky was actually reluctantly ready to agree until the last sentence.

 

“Was? Is she leaving?” Becky managed to get out smoothly. Not a hint of the unexpected panic she felt rising at the possible news.

 

“She was always scheduled to stay with us through your first fight. I’d assumed you knew that was the plan.” Charlotte said.

 

“Besides, we don’t need her anyway. Martinez is small time. I have bigger things in mind for you.” Alexa interjected. Giving Becky a grin while her eyes might as well have been giant comedic dollar signs.

 

“Good for you. So, is Bayley taking a step back or…” Becky trailed off. Not sure if she wanted to know the answer based on how Charlotte was looking at her.

 

“She is going back to her job. The MMA world revolves around more than just you Ms. Lynch. I’m sure she will be just fine.” Alexa spouted out as if it was no big deal.

 

Becky looked back towards the other blonde and sneered. “If it’s alright with you ‘Not Bayley’ I was asking Charlotte. Thanks.”

 

“I’m not in the mood for your childish antics Ms. Lynch. I’m here on Charlotte Flair’s behalf to ensure everything continues to improve.”

 

“Still wasn’t asking you.”

 

Charlotte cleared her throat and spoke up. Putting as much authority into her voice as she could. “Bayley is gone. We are trying to set you up for the highest level of success and came to a mutual agreement that our relationship with the media has to evolve and grow.”

 

Becky just gave her a look. Unable to even vocalize how upset she was.

 

“We have people bothering me for interviews at all times Becky. At some point, we had to let them get their shot. Bayley was always a stepping stone to bigger and better things.” Charlotte explained. Hoping not just change Becky’s mind, but calm the lingering doubt over her own decision.

 

Charlotte had hoped to get through this without making a scene. That hope was quickly dashed.

 

“Oh! Is THAT how it is? Things start going well and you want to forget who helped us get there!” Becky shouted. The attention of the entire gym swiftly turning towards them. “Bayley was more than a stepping stone and you fucking know it!”

 

Alexa tried to jump in. “Listen. Becky, you mind if call y-”

 

“I do mind. Fuck off and stop talking to me ‘Not Bayley’.” The fiery Irish woman dismissed. Turning her attention back onto Charlotte and stepping into her personal space. Trying to intimidate the other woman into backing up but getting nothing more than a terse glare. “Did Bayley have a say in this?”

 

Charlotte glared down at Becky but didn’t back down from her decision. For better or worse she was resigned to it. “She knew the deal when she came out here.”

 

“I’m sure. Say that one more time and you might believe it.” Becky turned away and picked up her water bottle from the ground. “You two have fun sitting in your own shit. I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

 

“Hey!” Charlotte cried out as Becky began to walk away. “Where are you going? We aren’t done here!”

 

Becky held one her hands high above her head and extended her middle finger upwards. “I am though. Don’t wait up princess. Wouldn’t want you to miss your beauty sleep.” Walking by where she had been working and scooping her phone up off the ground. Quickly pulling up the only number she wanted to talk to right now. “Nice meeting you ‘Not Bayley’.” Her tone obvious that the meeting had been anything but nice.

 

“Damn it Becky. Don’t be such a child. Come back here. Right NOW!” Charlotte yelled as the redhead ignored her. “BECKY!” Her words falling on deaf ears as the fighter walked out of the gym without another word.

 

“That went well,” Alexa commented dryly.

 

Over in one of the rings, Liv and Ruby had been awkwardly trying to continue drills with their contingent of students. Trying to ignore the loud voices from the other side of the gym.

 

Liv leaned in towards Ruby and spoke quietly as the gym fell into an uncomfortable silence. “Did Becky even take a coat?”

 

Ruby shook her head. “Nope. Just the sweaty shirt she had on.”

 

“But it’s Boston in winter. It’s literally 8 degrees outside.”

 

“I’m sure she is well aware of that.”

 

“Should we bring her a coat quick?” Liv asked.

 

“I can guarantee you she’s long gone by now. Even if she wasn’t she probably wouldn’t take it.”

 

“So what do we do?”

 

“Nothing. She’ll be back.” Ruby confidently declared. “Eventually.”

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

Bayley was packing a listless sort of way, her heart really not in the task, when she was surprised by a knock on the door.

 

Frowning, wondering if it might have been the food she’d ordered already, she padded over to the door and peered out through the peephole. When she saw who it was she smiled ruefully as she undid the chain and pulled the door open.

 

“You know it’s winter right?” she asked an obviously freezing Becky Lynch.

 

Becky fought against the shivers that wracked her body. Holding her arms tightly to her chest. Trying to conserve heat in athletic gear that was not meant for the outdoors. “Doesn’t bother me.” She tried to say, the message somewhat destroyed by having to sniffle in the middle and the way her teeth were chattering. “Didn’t come here for me though.”

 

“Get over here _tonta,”_ Bayley said impatiently as she steered Becky to the side of the bed nearest to the heater and cranked it up. She then grabbed her coat and threw it around Becky’s still shivering shoulders. “Now, since you’re so obviously indifferent to the cold, why don’t you tell me why you were out trying to catch your death?” she asked the Irish woman.

 

Becky hid behind her own bravado. “It’s not that bad. Ireland got pretty cold too.” Rubbing her hands hurriedly together and placing them near where the heat pumped into the room. She found herself struggling to come out and just say why she was here. Not wanting to admit the reality of what was happening and hiding behind meaningless banter. A tactic she had utilized quite often through her life. “Can’t a girl just go for a walk to see her friend without getting asked why?”

 

“That would be a lot more convincing if I’d understood more of it through the teeth chattering,” Bayley said dryly as she threw some more clothes into her roller bag. She fussed with them for awhile before she added, without looking up: “So...I take it you met Alexa Bliss?”

 

“I think she might have told me to call her that.” Becky snapped back. Suddenly feeling incredibly nervous even though she had been so self-assured the entire walk over. Now that she was here she didn’t really know what to say. She just knew what she felt, yet couldn’t put it into words.

 

Bayley made sure to keep herself turned away from Becky now. She was fairly certain she could keep her voice steady, but she wasn’t as confident about her expression. “You’re lucky to have her, she’s really good at what she does,” was all she said.

 

“I don’t give a shit.” Burst out of Becky before she could stop herself. Staring down at the carpet to avoid thinking about what Bayley was doing behind her. The noise of clothes being thrown in a suitcase suddenly her new least favorite sound in the world. Just beating out Sasha’s voice. “She’s just… I… She’s not you…”

 

Bayley couldn’t help it, she smiled at this. Turning her, probably still sad, face toward Becky she said: “Thanks Becky, that means a lot.”

 

Becky never believed that she was good in these moments and just kept looking at the carpet. “Does it mean enough that you’d consider staying?” Becky asked quietly. Knowing that the decision wasn’t really up to either of them. Bayley had her own life, and sitting in Boston indefinitely wasn’t going to pay the bills.

 

“That’s...kind of out of my hands,” Bayley said, in a voice much sadder than she’d intended. She looked down and then her eyes fell on the rooms mini-bar and her expression changed to one of shock. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry Becky! There’s alcohol in this room!” she gasped as she hurried over to the mini-bar but stopped because she didn’t really have any clear plan of action.

 

Becky sniffled loudly, this one not because of the cold. Turning around, getting up and stomping over towards Bayley, “STOP IT! This is all wrong!” Becky cried out. Walking closer and wrapping Bayley in a massive hug. Holding on for dear life. Uncaring of how cold she still was. Already feeling a bit warmer as she wrapped around the brunette like a python. Turning her head away and lying down on her shoulder so that Bayley wouldn’t notice she was crying. “I’m supposed to be making YOU feel better. Stop doing that thing you always do.”

 

As someone who had once covered the Becky Lynch who had once been nearly thrown off a plane for threatening to fight the whole first class cabin this was a real shock to Bayley, the previous few weeks notwithstanding. Still, the woman clinging to her like a life preserver wasn’t the same woman as the one from that plane. This was Becky Lynch, her friend. So she returned the hug after only a moment with all the feeling and warmth that she could.

 

Without releasing Becky, she knew that the Irish woman didn’t want to her tears to be seen, she asked: “How CAN you help me Becks?”

 

Becky hated how defeated Bayley sounded, but she had to concede that there really wasn’t much she could do. “I could tell Charlotte I won’t fight anymore.”

 

“If I wasn’t so damned certain I’d lose the ensuing confrontation I’d slap you for saying that…” Bayley said only half-jokingly “...you have worked WAY too hard to do that to yourself. This is YOUR victory Rebecca! YOU put in all the work!  YOU deserve this. Don’t you DARE threaten it just for me!”

 

“It won’t be the same without you there,” Becky replied. Trying her best to not fall back into old habits and lie about her real feelings. Following the advice she had been taught in rehab and finding that while it didn’t feel great, it felt better than faking and pretending she wasn’t upset.

 

“Maybe not...” Bayley said as hugged Becky once more “...but it can still be great, or even better. And I’ll always be rooting for you Lynch, even if only in my head.”

 

Becky felt like she had taken Bayley for granted. All that time together and suddenly now that their time was coming to a close she had a million things she wanted to say. She settled on trying to open herself up and be honest about as much as she could. Not knowing a better, stronger person that she could talk to. “I’m scared Bayley. I’m so scared that I’m going to fuck up again. I’ve been back fighting for a minute and I already feel like its too much. I love fighting but I don’t trust myself with everything that comes with.” Clutching the reporter a little tighter as she admitted something aloud she could barely admit to herself in the middle of the night prior to falling asleep.

 

Bayley closed her eyes as she rested a hand on the back of Becky’s head. “Yeah, it’s possible that you could slip. We’re all human Becky. BUT you’ve got good people around you, Liv and Ruby and I know you won’t believe it right now but even Charlotte in her own way. If you start to drift away they’ll pull you back.”

 

“I’m gonna miss you. It’s not as much fun annoying Charlotte without an audience.” Becky mumbled into Bayley’s shoulder. Trying her best to keep herself together. Not wanting to be a further burden to this amazing woman she was damn lucky to call a friend. “Can we at least text? Maybe even talk occasionally?”

 

“What? You thought I’d just let you ghost me Lynch? I think you’re going soft…” Bayley teased Becky as she let the Irish woman go from their hug and put a hand on her shoulder. “But do me a favor OK?” she asked seriously.

 

The fighter ran the back of her hand across her eyes. Brushing away some evidence of her tears. “Alright. Name your poison?” Feeling a little bit better and trying to put some energy in her words. She failed, but it was the effort that counts Becky thought.

 

“Don’t be too hard on Charlotte OK? I appreciate it but...I...I just think she might be under more pressure than we realize,” Bayley said earnestly, recalling the strange conversation she’d had with Charlotte’s father.

 

“I can’t promise anything right away. Can I have a day or two of making her and ‘Not Bayley’s’ life hell?” Becky asked. “After that, I will try to keep myself in check.”

 

“‘Not Bayley?’”

 

“The one with the Napoleon complex.”

 

“ALEXA…” Bayley corrected, though she failed to keep a smile entirely from her face. Sitting heavily on what had been her bed for weeks she stared at the wall for awhile as Becky joined her. “I won’t miss being cold all the time, I will say that,” she said finally.

 

“What cold?” Becky jokingly asked. Nudging Bayley with her shoulder and mustering up as big and bright of a smile as she could. “You’re just so hot I never notice.” Winking at Bayley and hoping that she could at least make the other woman smile a bit more before she had to leave.

 

Bayley rolled her eyes but laughed as she said: “You know what? You and Charlotte’s dad are a perfect pair.” She followed this pronouncement up by walking over to the mini-bar and kneeling in front of it. Looking over her shoulder she asked: “You just took home a winner’s purse right?”

 

“A big fat one,” Becky replied.

 

Bayley responded by hitting Becky in the face with an absurdly overpriced bag of M&M’s. She then followed this with a barrage of beef jerky, candy, and nuts. Finally, she withdrew two cans of diet Pepsi and handed one to Becky saying: “Thanks for dinner Becks, just promise me you won’t have too many of these.”

 

Becky shook her head and took the can. “Can’t do that. I just had to make weight for a fight. I’ve had a hankering for sweets for the last three weeks. Did you know I almost stabbed Liv when I saw her eating a cupcake when I still needed to lose another four pounds?”

 

“How does Liv possibly have room anywhere in her body for a whole cupcake?” Bayley asked as she cracked hers open.

 

“Best guess: She’s a demon sent to earth. Although she did say something about it being a vegan cupcake.” Becky admitted. Opening the can and taking a sip of the liquid she had deprived herself of for so long. “I forgot how good stuff that is horrible for you tastes.”

 

“Just think of it as ‘mental health food’,” Bayley advised as she held out her can toward Becky.

 

Becky looked across at the other woman and while she was still upset about it all, she found that she just wanted to enjoy the time they had left. Holding out her own can and tipping it gently against Bayley’s. “I’ll be keeping an eye out for your next article. I’m sure it will win a Pulitzer or whatever award you journalist types give out.”

 

**Sasha**

 

If the oxygen mask hanging down from the ceiling hadn’t prevented her from doing so, Sasha Banks would have been swearing in disgust. She was presently running on a steeply inclined treadmill and even through the howling of burning muscles and the sweat drenching her body she was still thoroughly annoyed. Reaching forward she hit a control on her treadmill to turn up the TV.

 

“... _Banks is talented, can’t take that from her. But she’s a joke, she’s not a fighter she’s a sideshow. If you’re as good as she thinks she is then you don’t have to go around yipping about it. The real big dogs don’t bark, they bite,”_ ‘Mean’ Mark Calaway was saying. Calaway had been known as ‘the Undertaker’ in his fighting days for how brutally he put people down. He was a legend of the sport. But he also famously reclusive, rarely making any sort of media appearance.

 

But apparently, he’d though it worth his time to appear on Mandy Rose’s show to trash her.

 

“ _So you’ve seen all her fights?”_ Rose asked, with that cloyingly sweet smile that always made Sasha want to slap her.

 

“ _Yeah, I said she’s good. But until she stops acting like a jackass I won’t take her seriously.”_ Calaway said.

 

“Well fuck you then!” Sasha snarled, or tried to, it was hard with the mask on. She continued to watch as Rose concluded her interview with Calaway and then transitioned to a new story.

 

“ _Sasha Banks’ reputation was in for more abuse later that same day as Natalya Neidhart also weighed in on the controversial champion. The fighter from Calgary had this to say,”_

 

The scene the shifted to what appeared to a cell phone video being shot by Neidhart herself. Speaking directly into the screen she said: “ _Banks, I know you think you’re sooooooo cute with your littles poses and *censor bleep* but not only are you trash but you TERRIBLE for women in MMA everywhere. Some of us are trying to get taken seriously while you’re out here wiggling your little booty from side to side and parading around like a princess. Why don’t you just go back to wherever the hell you crawled out of-”_

 

Sasha never actually heard the end of the report as her metal water bottle had just smashed through the TV screen. She was apoplectic with rage as she tore her mask off and leaped down off the treadmill. Without bothering to turn the machine off she stomped over to the room’s exit as a voice over the room’s speakers.

 

 _“Uh, is there a problem Sasha?”_ Simon Dean asked. As usual, even the sound of his voice was enough to anger her.

 

“Shut the FUCK UP Simon! Get me Teddy, NOW!” she snapped. When her manager arrived he found her sitting on a bench glowering down at the floor.

 

“What’s up playa?” he asked, cautiously.

 

“I want you to get on the phone right FUCKING now and get in touch with Natalya Neidhart’s people. I want a fight with her as soon as possible, tell them I’ll bulk up to fight her porky ass if I have to but if she’s gonna talk shit then I am going to END her!”

 

“Sasha, you’ve got two women in your division who-”

 

“I don’t give a fuck! There aren’t any real challenges left for me in the division so I’ll find them somewhere else! And I am not going to fucking sit back and let Neidhart run her damned mouth!” Sasha almost screamed. Teddy took the hint and left.

 

Already hating herself for how she’d just acted Sasha did what she always did these days. She turned that anger outward at another source. This time it was Charlotte Flair.

 

Sasha had actually known the other woman briefly many years ago, back before she’d move to the west coast and when Flair was still trying to be a fighter. She remembered that they’d actually gotten along OK at the time, though that feeling was long gone. She now loathed the woman and everything she stood for thanks to her association with Becky Lynch.

 

She’d had some of her people looking into the blonde bitch’s affairs and had found that not only was she doing her best to blanket the MMA media with coverage of her prize pet but she was also looking to expand. She’d already begun the process of trying to sign several more fighters to her gym and team, most were relative no names but one, in particular, stood out. Kairi Sane.

 

The Japanese import had relocated to the state’s just a few months ago and had been searching for a team since. Sasha supposed she had to admit that it was a sign of how well Flair had done, riding her present wave, that Sane was even thinking about signing with the Flair gym. But that fact wasn’t going to stop her from putting a stop to it if she could. Taking a few moments to think she realized what she could do. What she believed she HAD to do.

 

Finding her phone she called Teddy’s assistant, Titus O’Neil, and said: “Find out the phone number for Kairi Sane’s people then get in touch with them. Tell them that I’d like to meet with Sane.”

 

“ _Sure thing boss,”_ O’Neil said just as Sasha hung up the phone.

 

Sasha allowed herself a tiny smile at this. She’d begin training hard so that when she got Neidhart in the cage she’d be able to make the bitch pay. But in the meantime, she could also strike back at Flair.

 

The small portion of Sasha’s brain that hadn’t been subsumed by ‘the boss’ pointed out that Flair hadn’t actually done anything to her. Her only ‘crimes’ had been accepting Becky Lynch into her gym, nothing something Sasha had grounds to complain about, and then inviting Bayley to cover the fact. But Sasha pushed this aside easily, it was much easier to be aggrieved than honest with herself.

 

What also helped in these situations were distractions. Sasha’s conscience, far from clean these days, could be held at bay by her frenetic training but the rest of her time became more complicated. Even she would get bored of having sex with Zelina at some point, and in any case, her girlfriend was seemingly always surrounded by cameras. This meant that Sasha had to find other ways to distract herself.

 

Selecting another number in her phone she hit dial and waited for two rings before the phone clicked. “Yo, Jay, I’m throwing a party tonight so make sure you bring the good stuff to my place,” she said.

 

“ _Got it, remember it’s cash only.”_

 

“I got you homie, who you talking to?” Sasha asked irritably before hanging up. She then sent a few texts to the right people who would ensure that her house was packed that evening. This would give her an excuse to get as obliterated as possible. In addition she’d likely have sex with Zelina and one or two other women from the party. Both activities being great for helping her turn off her brain for awhile. If she played her cards right she could keep it distracted until she got into train the next morning.

 

Then it would just be a matter of doing it for every day for the rest of her life, or least her married life. This unhappy thought cut through the surge of triumph she’d been feeling and, in annoyance, she shouted: “Simon!”

 

“Yeah, Sasha,” her ‘trainer’ said sounding out of breath when he arrived a few moments later.

 

“Make yourself useful for once and go get my dry cleaning, I need something to wear tonight,” Sasha snapped.

 

“But...ah...don’t you want to train?”

 

Sasha gave the man a deadly stare as she asked: “Do I seem like I need you for that?”

 

**Becky**

 

It had only been four days since Alexa and her crew had rolled in but to Becky, it may as well have been four years.

 

One day in and Becky’s patience had already been tested severely.

 

Alicia Fox, one of Bliss’ cronies, had interrupted her during a previously wonderful massage from Liv. The tiny woman always managing to relax and help soothe the constant aches that sprung up from her training.

 

Alicia was a tall, striking woman with a penchant for dressing in the gaudiest of clothes, yet somehow managing to make it work. The bedazzled hat she wore was nothing other than an eyesore for Becky. Bringing her first impression to a dazzling new low.

 

Liv had been in the middle of making Becky’s day a whole lot nicer and Alicia had strutted in with a confidence that could only come from arrogance and ignorance. Everyone else knew that rehab was not the time to bother the fighter, but Fox either didn’t know or care.

 

Alicia had launched into a diatribe about food, and how Becky had been fueling her body all wrong. How she was going to fix everything through better choices and blah, blah, blah.

 

Becky had stopped listening after about two sentences. Which she believed was very admirable.

 

She hadn’t been rude. She just ignored Alicia in the faint hope that she would give up.

 

Becky thought she had when the other woman walked away with a smile but found out Alicia had most assuredly not given up.

 

After Liv had finished up Becky had gone back up to her room to relax for a moment before doing some interval training.

 

Becky wouldn’t call it a sweet tooth, but when she didn’t have a fight lined up she would let herself enjoy the odd candy after working out. Just a little cheat to allow herself a moment away from the daily grind. Several seconds of joy before going back to the gym and beating her body again.

 

When she had gone to her room after the massage Becky had beelined for her mini-fridge. Opening up expecting to see her treats but instead finding nothing but vegetables and plastic containers. Each one labeled with a different day, and what time of that day it could be eaten on.

 

Becky tore the lid off one and sniffed the contents. Wrinkling her nose at the strong odor and snapping the lid tightly on.

 

She was stomping down the stairs so loudly, Becky was sure that the whole gym may have been shaking.

 

“What the hell Fox!” Becky had screamed as she reached the gym. Her eyes narrowing on her target. Noting the black garbage bag she was carrying at her side as she walked towards the side door.

 

Alicia hadn’t even given Becky the courtesy of looking scared as the angry, trained fighter made a beeline for her. Just flashing her a bright smile before opening the door and chucking the bag into the dumpster.

 

“It’s for your own good.” The only words offered by the woman as Becky glared at her.

 

Day two hadn’t ended up being much better. Alicia had managed to get Charlotte in on her strict dieting and Becky had found no help from the blonde.

 

Mickie James, Bliss’ other cohort, decided that the middle of an intense cardio session was the opportune time to come up and try to take her measurements for a new wardrobe. Something Becky was vehemently against, but her complaints fell on deaf ears.

 

Of course, that wasn’t the end of that. Mickie had continued to bother her throughout the day with seemingly innocuous questions. Sometimes just staring at Becky while she worked out, Mickie’s eyes darting back and forth between the tablet in her hand and Becky.

 

Day three had been the worse yet.

 

Becky had been all ready to go down and get in a good session on the mits, but instead somehow found herself at an upscale clothing shop in Boston. Playing the role of mannequin for Alexa and Mickie to throw countless outfits on.

 

The only reason she had agreed to go was Charlotte’s insistence that things would get easier once Alexa’s team got through this first round of adjustments.

 

Yet, now that she was here Becky wished she had been able to ignore the blonde and stayed in the gym.

 

Becky thought training for a fight was draining, but that had nothing on being stuck in a room and forced to listen to Alexa Bliss critique her style for almost four hours.

 

After an hour of fighting it, Becky realized that it was simply better to let Alexa have her way and store the anger for use in her next heavy bag session. Otherwise, they may have been there even longer before Alexa had deemed the trip a success.

 

Becky had came down to the gym on the fourth day anticipating some new sort of torture. It’s not as if Alicia’s food was the worst thing ever, it had all the nutrients she needed and some of them didn’t taste half bad, but the lack of freedom made her skin crawl. Having every day’s food so closely monitored and scheduled was never something she had done back at CCS. She had always made weight and ate pretty darn healthy already. Never having had a problem making weight for any of her fights. Cutting down to 135 was more an annoyance than a real hindrance.

 

Since this began Becky had to fight the urge to go out at night and eat or drink something that wasn’t on Alicia’s regimented plan. Not caring if it was a burger or even just an apple. As long as it wasn’t something she was being told to eat.

 

For three hours she worked out with trepidation. Her head already anticipating the door opening and Alexa or one of the others coming in with some fresh new idea.

 

When it finally came she flinched out of reflex. Taking a deep breath and turning towards the doors to see none of the women she dreaded.

 

“Hey Ric. What brings you in here today?” Becky politely asked. Still a bit ashamed of her outburst.

 

“Just you darlin’. Charlotte’s out for the day and I wanted to see how you were doin.” Ric said. Slowly walking over towards her.

 

“Still can’t spar, but I’m getting my work in where I can.” Becky dismissively responded. Not wanting to really talk about her feelings to Ric. “Sorry about acting like a proper ass last time.”

 

Ric just smiled at her. “Water under the bridge hun. Besides, I’ve acted like an ass enough times to know that sometime you need forgiveness from others before getting it from yourself.”

  
Becky hated how close his words hit.

 

The doors of the gym opened once more and Becky audibly groaned. Already doing breathing exercises to try and preemptively calm herself down. Not knowing that Ric was watching her with a silent, knowing frown on his face.

 

“There you are.” Alexa called. “We need to go over some things today. Interviews are being lined up and you need to be ready.” Walking over to the two as if she owned the gym. Alicia and Mickie hot on her heels.

 

Ric started speaking before Becky realized what was happening. “I think you can do that on another day. Becky has plans for the afternoon.”

 

Alexa turned her eyes onto Ric and raised an eyebrow, but did her best to remain respectful to the legend. “No one informed me she had plans. I would never have scheduled this if I knew.” Her tone conciliatory, something Becky had never heard from her.

 

“Course not. Sorry you didn’t get the memo. I’m sure an intelligent young woman like yourself can figure out a way to adjust your day.” Ric smugly stated. Riding the line between overt disrespect and compliment.

 

The tiny blonde clearly didn’t like being put into a verbal corner. Her expression tight, she looked over at Becky. “We will talk soon. I have been lucky enough to get you an interview scheduled with Mandy Rose coming up. Perfect timing to get your name back out and get ahead of the press. Make your image a little more palatable. Enjoy the rest of your day Ms. Lynch.” Alexa offered. Turning on her heel and walking away. Clearly not wanting to annoy Ric and have that negatively impact her position.

 

Becky waited until they were gone before grinning and letting out a wry chuckle. “Thanks for the save old man.”

 

“You looked like you needed a break. I can see why my daughter brought her in, but that tiny girl sure can get on your nerves.”

 

“You telling me.” Becky turned back towards the bag.

 

“Do you like movies?” Ric asked.

 

Becky was a little curious about the out of the blue question. “I guess.”

 

“How about you take the next couple hours off. What could it hurt. Charlotte’s office is available and I’ve been looking for someone to watch with.”

 

How could Becky turn it down when Ric put it like that. “Alright Ric. This better not be something I regret. It’s not porn?”

 

Ric laughed for a second before it turned into a coughing fit. Pulling himself quickly back together. “No. it most certainly isn’t.”

 

Becky grinned. “Damn. That would have been a fun story to tell.”

 

**Becky/Charlotte**

 

Charlotte had just finished another busy day. Speaking at length with Bob Orton, who seemed to be very happy with how the whole deal had worked out. His initial apprehension waning considerably now that Becky had came back and won.

 

Besides that she had been busy scouting out new talent for the gym.

 

It wasn’t hard to get new fighters to come, but it was hard getting the RIGHT fighters in camp.

 

Balancing talent with personalities that wouldn’t clash with Becky too much was a hard combination to find, but she had been making strides. Kairi Sane and Toni Storm two names she was keen on adding to her gym.

 

The last thing, and possibly the most difficult thing was looking into bringing in a head coach for the gym.

 

Ruby had done a great job helping Becky along, but they had mostly relied on Lynch’s veteran know how to get her through the fight. Far more concerned with just getting her physically and mentally ready to enter a cage fight.

 

There were plenty of options out there but one name intrigued her above all others.

 

Sasha Banks had recently sent away her longtime coach, and Charlotte was hoping that Bobby Lashley might be looking to get back in the game after being let go.

 

She had begun the process of reaching out to him over a week ago. Emailing his professional contact and receiving a short but polite response that equated to no thanks. Citing his closeness to Sasha and feeling like it would be a betrayal of sorts to coach Becky. Even if they weren’t scheduled to fight.

 

Charlotte had been quick to point out that Sasha had let him go and betrayed him on some level. Why fire your head coach when you are winning?

 

Lashley had been persistent in his denial, but Charlotte was more persistent. Calling him daily to see if he had changed his mind. Doing her best to make him feel wanted. Wooing him to just come out for a day or two for a test run. “It’s a win-win Lashley. Either you come up here and you are a good fit, or even if it doesn’t work out you get a vacation to Boston for the weekend, with travel and room on me.”

 

She sensed her tactics were working. Instead of flat out saying no, Lashley had changed his answer to, “Let me think about it.”

 

The small but significant victory had brought Charlotte back to her office when she had been prepared to spend all day out and about.

 

She opened the door without a thought and stopped in her doorway. Taking in the bizarre sight in her office with raised eyebrows. Ric and Becky sitting in two of her chairs pulled into the middle of the floor. An open bag of popcorn half finished in between them. Both more interested in talking about the film than watching it.

 

“Come on Ric you have to admit that the water thing kind of ruins it.”

 

Ric chuckled and shook his head. “If you let it. I like to focus on the story.”

 

“Oh come off it.”

 

“Maybe it has some more meaning to it.”

 

“And what would that possibly be? Just a fan of M. Knight?”

 

Charlotte swallowed. Knowing what the answer was. Her mind going back to one of the few nights when her father had actually acted like it.

 

“There are a lot of things I’d do differently if I could. This isn’t one of them. You know I was a bit of a wildman back in the day.”

 

“What! This is shocking!” Becky sarcastically cut in.

 

“I know. I know. Point being, I actually had a phase where I tried to be a family man. Do the whole thing, but it was probably too little too late, and I didn’t even continue on with it. Gave up and went right back into boxing. One night me Charlotte and Reid watched this movie. One of the few things we did as a family.” Ric paused and collected his thoughts while Becky listened with rapt attention. Neither having noticed Charlotte enter the room.

 

The tall blonde feeling wholly uncomfortable. A none too small part of her fuming at her father sharing this with Becky.

 

“I used to tell Reid to ‘Swing away’ on the rare occasion I was there for his training. Maybe it was just-”

 

Charlotte had enough and needed to announce herself to the room. “I thought this was my office?”

 

Becky and Ric turned around in their chairs and looked at the other woman. Ric with a soft guilt ridden look on his face, and Becky with a concerned gaze. The Irish woman noting how tense Charlotte held herself.

 

“We can clear out. The movies over already.” Becky said. Automatically finding herself trying to alleviate Charlotte’s stress, despite not knowing the exact cause. Although she could give a pretty good guess right now.

 

“Sure. I’d like to use MY office if you don’t mind.” Charlotte not caring that she was taking out the old anger she held onto since childhood and beyond on Becky.

 

“Lottie don’t take it out on-”

 

“DON’T call me that right now!” Charlotte snapped. “Just clear out.” Storming out the door and slamming it shut behind her.

 

The door creaked open after her and Charlotte was surprised by the voice calling out to her. “Charlotte! Wait up!” Becky called after her.

 

Against her better judgement Charlotte stopped in her tracks. The redhead surprising her once again when she felt a comforting hand laid on her shoulder.

 

“I know you might kill me for asking this, but are you alright? We didn’t think you were going to be back today. I’ll clean it all up and you can have your office back.”

 

Charlotte sucked in a deep breath.

 

‘Who the hell was this and what had she done with Becky?’ She thought.

 

“Doesn’t seem like you to give a shit.” Charlotte bluntly stated. Feeling a tiny flinch through Becky’s hand on her shoulder.

 

“I HAD a good teacher.” Becky vaguely stated. Not willing to elaborate further.

 

Charlotte let her shoulders slump. Trying to let go of some of the old resentment she still held for her father. Turning around and using her hand to grab and take Becky’s off her shoulder. “Thanks for the support, but I’m not really in the mood for a talk.”

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want. I just wanted to check in on you. You seemed a little bitchier than normal.” Becky tried to joke. Her attention being diverted to the hand Charlotte had taken off her shoulder, but not let go of. The large strong hand wrapping around her own and filling her with a warmth that scared her as much as it intrigued her.

 

Not used to Becky being so soft in front of her, Charlotte found herself opening up ever so slightly. “Reid always looked up to Ric.” Pausing to gather her own thoughts.

 

Becky knew better than to say anything. Just squeezing Charlotte’s hand back and noting how the blonde seemed unaware she was still holding on.

 

“No matter what he did, or how many friends he had Reid always wanted Ric to notice him. But he was always busy. As we grew up he was always working. Always on the road. As his older sister I always hated seeing how that weighed on him. I knew that Ric’s neglect hurt him. Maybe I was just too cynical to let him get to me. But not Reid. He worshipped the ground Ric walked on. Always wanted to impress his old man.” Charlotte bitterly let out. “One movie night when he wanted to act like a father wasn’t enough…”

 

Becky had been listening and had enough. She wouldn’t want to admit where she got the idea from lest she never hear the end of it from a certain reporter, but Becky slowly let her arms wrap around Charlotte’s tense shoulders and gave her a hug.

 

For her part Charlotte thought she may be dreaming. The idea of Becky Lynch being nice and trying to comfort her clashing with her worldview.

 

“What are you doing Lynch?”

 

“Just shut the fuck up and let me hug you Charlie.”

 

The odd stalemate lasted another few seconds before Charlotte gave in. Letting her body melt into Becky’s warm, strong embrace. Finding it more comforting than she should.

 

Becky ran her hand up and down the other woman’s back. Subconsciously using some of the same movements Bayley had to make her feel better.

 

It only lasted for a short time, but Charlotte felt better nonetheless. Pulling away, ready to say thanks and quickly make her exit, but finding herself stunned by the genuine care in Becky’s eyes.

 

Warning signs began flashing and Charlotte thought back to one of her first real conversations with Bayley and tried to remember all the reasons she had given for why Becky Lynch was a horrible idea for her.

 

It didn’t seem to matter and like magnets they began to move closer. Becky’s eyes closing first as Charlotte followed along. Inching closer till they could feel the gentle puffs of breath from the other woman.

 

The door to Charlotte’s office creaked open and they both jumped apart. The sudden interruption breaking the moment that had been developing.

 

Ric stepped out and looked at Charlotte and Becky for a moment. His eyes darting back and forth between the two women. From Charlotte’s inability to meet his eyes and quick retreat to Becky’s brief flash of fury in his direction before turning back to look at Charlotte. Her face falling as the female Flair backed away and began to walk towards the gym doors.

 

“Sorry for barging in. Didn’t know you two were out here.”

 

Becky turned back to Ric to answer. Letting out a sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s alright Ric. You couldn’t have known.” Watching as Charlotte walked away without a backwards glance.

 

Unaware that Charlotte wouldn’t let herself turn around. Too afraid of what she was feeling to act on it.

 

At a moment like this Charlotte really wished she had someone like Bayley to talk to…

 

Instead of that she just kept walking. Intent on avoiding this and pushing those feelings down.

 

**Bayley**

 

Despite the fact that it was a non-stop flight the trip from Boston to LA seemed to take much longer than it previously had. The reason wasn’t hard to figure out. The last few times she’d done it, she’d been on her way somewhere for a specific (and exciting)  purpose. Now it was just...an end.

 

Even the ride back to her place seemed to take forever, though this time the impression was probably accurate given the realities of Los Angeles traffic. When she finally did get home she felt like a stranger. Everything was where she’d left it and yet she felt like a caterpillar that had been asked to go back into its cocoon.

 

She was only now realizing just how happy she’d been in Boston. Not that she’d ever been without stress, and at times the work had been extremely frustrating. Running back and forth between Becky and Charlotte, two accomplished women who occasionally had the emotional maturity of 4 year olds, had been exhausting. But she’d loved doing it.

 

Given HOW she’d been ‘let go’ Bayley had spent a fair amount of time being angry, though she hadn’t let this show when Becky had come to see her. She’d even fully written and edited a scathing hit piece on Charlotte and her gym to file in lieu of the piece she’d been meaning to write. But she hadn’t posted it, she couldn’t. Charlotte had wounded her, deeply, but she still liked the other woman and even thought she could see her point of view.

 

Sighing, she pushed all these thoughts aside as she dropped her bag on her couch and looked around again. Two things had actually changed while she’d been gone. Her plants were dead and there was an enormous pile of mail sitting on her table. She’d been able to keep up with her bills while gone (had actually been paying less since she wasn’t using her internet or power) but there was still a LOT of look through.

 

“ _Christ, well someone’s popular,”_ she could almost hear Becky saying if she’d been confronted with the pile.

 

“ _I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about it,”_ an equally imaginary Charlotte said before vanishing up to her office with the pile, intent on handling everything herself.

 

Sighing again Bayley opened her fridge and almost gagged. Looking back into it with squinted eyes she saw that what had once been some cheese had turned into her very own petri dish, as well as several other aspiring science projects. Too tired to even call for food, she cleaned out the fridge, tossed the lethally smelly garbage, and then returned to her apartment.

 

After changing into sweats she made herself tea and sat on her couch. Cracking open her laptop she set it next to her and then began pulling items off the mail pile. All while the document containing her final article from inside the Lynch camp, finished but not yet posted, stood open on her desktop.

 

“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life _chica,”_ she said with a sigh.

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

Becky had tried to give Alexa a chance. For Charlotte. She could sense that something was up with her. The blonde seemingly more on edge that ever before. Neither having talked about their ‘almost kiss’ since it happened.

 

Becky wasn’t sure why Charlotte hadn’t come to her, but she could guess. As for herself, the reason she hadn’t brought it up was that she didn’t want to admit that she cared what Charlotte felt about it.

 

She just needed to get away from it all for a bit.

 

Alexa’s constant nagging or ‘help’ had been a source of great stress. Her infiltration of the gym making the space Becky had felt safe in, into a cradle of anxiety.

 

The stress of it all pulling at her mind and bending her thoughts. Throwing on a dark green hoodie and taking off without a particular destination in mind.

 

After a bit of walking Becky found that her feet had taken her to the coffee place Bayley had once taken her too. Memories of bad coffee and good company bringing a fragile smile onto her face, that quickly cracked when she remembered the woman who was no longer here. Probably already back in California and in the swing of her old life. She wouldn’t want Becky to bother her. Not with something so trivial. Already ashamed that she had even contemplated calling Bayley just because she missed her.

 

Just as it was last time no one was in the establishment. But rather than a hulking giant behind the counter an attractive brunette with a body to die for.

 

Suddenly Becky had a distraction from her own head and fell back into old patterns. Flashing a smile at the woman and sauntering over. Walking with a confident swagger and tossing her vermillion curls over her shoulder. The old rush thrumming through her veins when she saw the quick once over the barista gave her. Her interest obvious and far too easy for the old Becky Lynch to sweet talk into her bed.

 

“Hey there…” Becky looked down at her nametag. Purposefully holding her gaze on the ample bosom on display, “Brooke.” Her grin widening when she saw the recognition flash on Brooke’s face. “I’d introduce myself, but I think you already know who I am.”

 

It wasn’t a personal record for Becky, nowhere near it in fact, but five minutes to making out with someone as hot as… the coffee chick was still pretty good.

 

She had the brunette pressed against the counter. Rubbing her hands up and down the soft body, lost in the simple pleasures.

 

Brooke broke the kiss and began to trail her lips down to Becky’s neck. Eagerly offering her neck to the talented brunette’s lips. “I’m not supposed to do this, but I can close this place and we can go back to your place.” Not noticing how Becky had stiffened and froze, “I promise to make it worth your while Lasskicker.” She whispered in a teasing low tone.

 

Becky pulled away like Brooke had burned her and started walking back around the counter and quickly towards the door. “I have to go.” Was all she said. Blatantly ignoring the aggrieved yelling from behind. Getting out the door and jogging towards the gym. Slowly picking up speed along the way till she was in a full out sprint by the time she reached the gym doors.

 

It was late at night and no one was in the gym, so Becky was able to use her key and quietly slip inside. Immediately pacing through the space and trying to calm herself down.

 

She hadn’t tried to chase away her anxiety and stress like that in a long time, and Becky didn’t want to get back in the habit of sleeping with ladies just to distract her from her own shit. It reminded her of those dark times after her injury and the old feelings crept up like a sinister spider. Slowly, inch by inch sneakily taking back the ground she had won from it. Insidious and persistent in the mental warfare it waged inside.

 

Becky knew she was feeling overstressed but was so far gone that none of the things she had learned in rehab and therapy were coming to mind. Her breaths shortening as her heartbeat began to steadily increase.

 

She was in Liv’s office when the frantic energy found a way out in the form of Becky’s foot smashing through a cupboard door. The Irish woman surprised by her own outburst. Bits of cheap wood splinters scattered beneath the massive hole she had created.

 

Becky closed her eyes and groaned. Kneeling down to survey the damage she had created and opening the shattered door.

 

As she looked it over she couldn’t help but notice a hint of red and blue peeking out from behind a pile of somewhat random cleaning supplies. Her own curiosity getting the better of her and grabbing a hold of what she now knew was a cardboard box and pulling it out.

 

An old glass lullaby that Becky knew all too well ringing out in the silence.

 

Bayley had been a writer her entire adult life, and much of her childhood. She’d once entertained the idea of being a novelist. She was good at creative invention and finding the right way to express herself to a large audience. Yet she was running out of good excuses to avoid going out with her friends.

 

“ _COME ON Bay, we haven’t been out in AGES! And I can’t go out by myself to this new place!”_ Bayley’s friend Emma had just texted.

 

“ _I’m just really tired Em, I’m really sorry!! We can grab lunch or something soon though OK?”_ Bayley sent back, hoping that going vague would be the right play. It was not.

 

“ _What’s been going on with you lately? Are you OK? I’m worried! It’s like you’re dealing with a breakup since you got back from Boston…”_ The ellipsis at the end of this statement was clearly an invitation for Bayley to talk about what was bothering her. Bayley appreciate this, but wasn’t ready for that yet.

 

“ _Something like that Em. I’ll text you tomorrow, I’m going to try and get some writing down tonight,”_ she sent back before setting her phone aside.

 

She really did have some writing to do but it wasn’t for a story. A new career opportunity had presented itself to Bayley in a most unexpected way recently. Once she’d filed her final story about her time in the Flair camp, a story that made clear the end of her association with them, she’d started getting the emails. No fewer than five major MMA teams had reached out to her to see if she’d be willing to come and cover their fighters in house in the same way she’d covered Becky Lynch.

 

There were few sports more prone to ‘follow the leader’ behavior than MMA. When one team got a shiny new kind of toy than they ALL wanted one of the same. Bayley was in a uniquely advantageous position as well in as much as she was the pioneer of this kind of arrangement. She could more or less set her own terms with these teams. It was tempting, she’d still be able to keep MMA-yley.com up and running while bringing in a nice secondary income. No small consideration given the damage she’d done to her savings in Boston..

 

It should have been a slam dunk for her. But it wasn’t. She just wasn’t sure if she was ready to do it again, not yet. She was still thinking on this when her phone buzzed again. Rolling her eyes at the thought of whatever message Emma and sent now she reached for it and turned it over. It wasn’t Emma.

 

_“Hola my favorite stateside journalist : D Long time no hablar eh?”_

 

Bayley blinked in surprise. She hadn’t heard from Becky since she’d gotten back to California, she’d been meaning to text the fighter herself but somehow it had always seemed like the wrong time. “ _I do believe that is some of the worst Spanish I’ve ever seen, but I still love you anyway. And what’s this about ‘stateside’? Whose better than me internationally?”_ she sent back with a small smile.

 

Becky swallowed down a smile at seeing the words appear on her screen. “ _I’ll get back to you when I find someone.”_ Pausing with her thumb over the send button before she added, “ _Miss you.”_

 

Bayley smiled upon reading this, but also felt something tugging at her journalistic instincts. She believed that Becky probably did miss her, she missed Becky. But knowing what she did about the other woman, this wasn’t the kind of text she would just send on a whim. Something was bothering the fighter. Unconsciously she found herself slipping back into the role of confidant she’d had while in Boston.

 

“ _So...it’s the weekend, shouldn’t you be out doing something crazy like drinking diet soda or staying out past nine?”_ she asked, hoping to draw the Irish woman out.

 

Becky stared down at the words and felt the guilt that had already been eating her since the coffee shop girl increase. Bayley’s joking way of mentioning her doing something crazy making her hesitant to reveal. A part of her saying to just lie and not deal with the disappointment Bayley would have in her. Not wanting to admit that she was disappointed in herself as well.

 

_“Haha. Very funny. I could ask you the same question. Don’t you have something better to do than text an alcoholic fighter.”_

 

 _“Uh, that alcoholic fighter messaged me FIRST...and how do you know I’m not out doing something crazy like...a sock hop...or a drive in movie...I’m too old and boring to know what people do anymore,”_ Bayley sent back. Her joking tone was partially because she was just enjoying talking with her friend again but also because she knew if she laid it on thick Becky would relax.

 

 _“So you aren’t just sitting at your place all alone?”_ Becky felt herself calm momentarily at the old banter they had. Her calm leaving almost as soon as it came when she remembered what had prompted the texts. _“I went to that coffee shop.”_

 

Bayley sensed that they were slow walking toward the real reason why Becky had reached out. Thinking about her reply for awhile she sent: “ _I’m guessing it wasn’t to see our buddy Dave?”_

 

Becky looked down at her phone and frowned. “ _He wasn’t there tonight.”_ She typed. Part of her wanting to just delete it and make some joke, but ultimately hitting send.

 

Well that was interesting, Bayley thought as she looked at the reply. No joke, no other details, SOMETHING had happened tonight. “ _Good coffee?”_ was all she asked.

 

 _“Wouldn’t know. Got distracted with the new girl behind the counter.”_ Smashing the send button before she had a chance to stop herself. Both hands clasping together tightly around the phone. Just waiting for the vibration to convince her she wasn’t as alone as she felt.

 

Bayley sensed that every extra second she took to respond to this would increase Becky’s flight risk so she hurriedly sent: “ _Andd are yout wo still ‘distracting’ eac hother now?_ ’” spelling errors and all.

 

Becky took a deep breath and peered down at the text in confusion for a moment before filling in the gaps. _“No. Stopped before things weent to far.”_ The slight tremor in her right hand making it difficult to hit the tiny buttons on the screen in the dark of her room.

 

Bayley knew that her next response was VERY important. Say the wrong thing and Becky would vanish like a spooked deer. Thinking, and typing, carefully she sent: “ _So, it seems like you made a healthy and responsible choice. But I’m guessing you're facing another?”_

 

It seemed so simple when Bayley put it that way. Becky looked up at the ceiling and tried to calm herself down to little effect. _“Can you promise not to tell Charlotte? She-”_  Becky wasn’t sure what she wanted to say and stared off into space for a minute. Deleting the last word and adding _“I don’t want her to know.”_

 

Deciding that a tiny bit of levity could help here Bayley replied: “ _You know I always protect my sources.”_

 

Becky respected Bayley trying to make her at ease. It made it harder to admit, _“I accidentally found some beer in the gym and I really, and I mean REALLY need a drink right now.”_

 

That settled it for Bayley, she tapped Becky’s contact and hit dial. When she heard the phone answered she said: “Think about it” a deliberate call back to the words that had begun their friendship.

 

For a second Becky closed her eyes and just let herself listen to a voice that seemed like it cared. The last weeks of Alexa and her cohorts business like approach making Bayley’s voice seem like the sun she had been missing. “I have… A lot. Been starin’ at the thing for a while ‘fore I called you.” Opening her eyes and swallowing the lump in her throat when she looked towards the unassuming half empty case of beer sitting at the foot of her bed, while Becky sat back against the headboard.

 

Bayley sighed, unsure of what to do. Had she been there she would have wrapped Becky up in her arms and held her, but that wasn’t an option. “What’s been going on?” was what she ended up asking, knowing Becky would grasp the subtext.

 

Becky turned her head away from the phone and tried to keep the sound of her soft crying away from the microphone. Hating how weak she was. For allowing something so innocuous to make her like this. “It’s just been a lot. Alexa. Charlotte. I’m tired. I’m trying to be a team player and make this work but… I’m tired.” Becky whined.

 

Eyeing the case once more and tensing up against the sudden urge to reach over. Holding herself back and pushing herself further back into the headboard. Going so far as to curl her feet up and stay as far away as possible.

 

Bayley sighed: “Look, Becky...I can’t MAKE you do anything here, even the right thing. I think if your relationship with Charlotte has proven anything it’s that no one MAKES you do anything. And you’ve heard my speech about all the work you’ve put in before. So let me just tell you two things. First, I love you no matter what and I will do my best to support and help you regardless because that’s what friends do. Second, PLEASE think HARD about this.”

 

She felt somewhat silly delivering a speech that might have come out of a movie but she’d spoken from the heart. Now all she could do was wait.

 

Becky paused and tried to really take in what Bayley was saying. She knew that she could count on the woman to always have the right advice. That was a large reason why part of her didn’t want to text the reporter tonight. Becky knew damn well that Bayley would tell her not to drink and she called her anyway. That had to count for something. At least on some level Becky hadn’t been a failure tonight.

  
“I knew I shouldn’t have called you.” Becky tried to joke. Although she wasn’t sure how it came across when she stumbled halfway through to choke back a sob. Holding a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the noise.  

 

“Do you want me to text one of the girls to come over and get their beer?” Bayley offered.

 

Becky’s attention once again turned towards the case but this time it looked a lot less frightening. “Tell them it will be outside my door.” Gathering her self control and grabbing hold of the case. Taking a deep breath as she held the phone to her ear with one hand. Bayley’s presence on the line helping ground her as she moved towards the repaired door and dropping it outside. Quickly closing the door and moving back to her bed.

 

Hearing Becky return Bayley was beaming, though Becky couldn’t see it. “I’m proud of you, you stubborn Irish bitch,” she said, managing not to sound choked up.

 

“Don’t get all weepy on me now. It wasn’t even my kind of beer anyway.” Becky immediately returning to humor to try and deflect the praise.

 

“Hey!” Bayley said, raising her a voice a little so Becky would know she was serious. She waited a moment before saying again: “I’m proud of you Becky Lynch, you should be proud of yourself too.”

 

Becky took a few seconds before responding to give herself a moment. Trying her best to take the praise without adding a qualifier, “I’ll try…” Knowing that she should do better than that. “I mean I am. Proud. Of me.” Pausing again. “You never really gave me an answer earlier. Are you free to talk some more. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your normal life now that I’m not really in it.”

 

Bayley thought guiltily for a moment about Emma before managing to wrestle the feeling down. She’d make it up to her friend soon. Right now, this took priority. “All the time in the world,” she said as she lay down on her sofa.

 

A real smile graced Becky’s face as she sat down in the middle of her bed. Stretching out across it. For the first time since the night she had said goodbye to Bayley, Becky felt truly comfortable. Alexa and all the baggage that came with her far in the rearview mirror for the time being. Still there but not as overwhelming as it had been before.

 

“Would you hang up if I asked for phone sex?” Becky asked in faux seriousness.

 

“ _por el amor de Dios,_ you know I think we’d been apart JUST long enough for me to forget how much a brat you can be,” Bayley said, making sure to speak lightly so Becky would know she was joking.

 

“You say brat, I say endearing. Same thing in the end.” Becky paused at the lighthearted exchange and found herself picking at that damn hole in her jeans once again. What once had been only the size of a golf ball was now nearly baseball sized. “ _Gracias. Por_ being you. Sorry, I’m not great at the Spanish.” Clearly speaking the first half and mumbling through her apology.

 

“No...you're _muy mal_ at it, but I’ll cut you some slack. So dish for me Lynch, how terrible is the reign of blonde Napoleon?” Bayley asked, legitimately curious.

 

Becky closed her eyes. “Can we not.” Taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to think about her right now.”

 

“Alright, alright...something else you’ll like then...how’s Charlotte?” Bayley started this statement light but ended in a voice that she hoped conveyed her earnestness.

 

“She’s been busy.” Becky said. Trying to gather how own scattered thoughts about the woman. “Not around the gym as much now that… She’s not around. Even when she is she seems preoccupied.” Trying not to sound upset that Charlotte hadn’t been paying as much attention to her now that Bliss was around. “I thought she might… Never mind.” She finished lamely.

 

“Reporter,” was all Bayley said in response.

 

“Ugh. There was this one time where I thought she might be interested, but it’s just wishful thinking.” Becky’s eyes opening wide when the words just slipped out. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

 

So many connections were lighting up in Bayley’s brain at the moment that she imagined it like a New Year’s fireworks display. Of course, she had two separate confidences to keep in this situation. More to buy herself time than anything she asked: “What made you think that?”

 

Becky groaned. “I thought we had a moment one night. She talked to me a little about her brother Reid and I wasn’t being an ass for once. Like I said, it was just my mind playing tricks on me.” Trying to dismiss and ignore the moment as she had tried too since it happened and Charlotte left.

 

More frustrated than ever about being physically removed from the scene of these goings on Bayley said, cautiously: “You know, if she WERE interested...she’s kinda like you. Stubborn as hell so…” She let this statement hang for awhile.

 

“She is.” Becky quietly agreed. “I’ve been trying to play nice with Alexa and all her shit for Charlotte’s sake. That’s probably the only reason I haven’t strangled her by now.” Something inside telling her that not talking about Alexa and how she really felt would be a bad decision.

 

Bayley had been an interviewer long enough to sense a thread, she pounced. “So you’ve stopped calling her ‘Not Bayley’ then huh?” she asked.

 

“Not to her face. It seems to annoy her.” Becky shrugged despite Bayley being unable to see.

 

“Any reason why you’ve decided to wage war on someone who, however obnoxious, IS there to help you?” Bayley asked gently, it was a reproof but a very mild one.

 

“Help.” Becky scoffed. “She just wants to make me into something I’m not. The type of idiot that keeps on trying to ram a square peg into a round hole.”

 

“There was a time when any mention of ‘ramming’ anything into any sort of hole would have drawn a joke from you. You really don’t like her huh?” Bayley teased.

 

“She doesn’t give a shit about me and what I want. Just what ‘looks good’ to the public.” Becky vented. “She’s got this interview with some chick named after a feckin flower and they want me to wear a goddamn dress! A DRESS! On air!”

 

Bayley chuckled at this, but even as she did her stomach gave a slight lurch. “As much as I’d pay to see that...did she happen to say it was someone named Mandy Rose?”

 

Becky was still seething. “Sounds familiar. I try not listening when she talks usually.”

 

Deciding not to pursue the issue Bayley decided to change the subject: “Have you seen Ric around the gym?”

 

Becky welcomed the change of topic. “We actually watched a movie one night. He was going to show me some moves this week.”

 

Bayley smiled at this. “If I recall some of my boxing history you’ll be learning the stomp on the toes, elbow to the nose, and quick headbutt then?” she asked.

 

Biting back a laugh Becky smiled. “Probably. Just got to find an opponent to test it out on. How about you? What’s happening over there?”

 

“Well, for starters it’s warm and sunny...which is pretty damn awesome I must say…” Bayley joked before she sobered a bit and added: “But mostly I’m trying to dig myself out of the hole I made in my savings while working on the blog.”

 

“Come on. There’s got to be something on the horizon. Didn’t you get the ol’ Becky Lynch rub? Not the rub I would have preferred of course.” Enjoying just talking with Bayley. Her mind gloriously free.

 

“Shouldn’t you be bothering Lizzie’s mom or something?...” Bayley teased “...And now that you mention it yeah.  I got a pretty intriguing group of offers after I posted my last story on you. Seems there are a couple teams around the country who are eager to try the ‘embedded reporter’ thing and since I’m the only expert on it they want me to do it.” Bayley had hesitated to share this information with Becky not because she didn’t trust her but because she didn’t want to mess with her already strained emotional equilibrium. But in the end, she decided that her friend could take it.

 

Becky was surprised by how pleased she was to here this. “That’s great Bayley! I finally get to say I’m proud of you this time!” Lying her head down on the pillow and looking at the clock to her right. Noting how much time had gone by and how much better she felt since speaking with the other woman.

 

“Oh really Lynch? No line about you being jealous other people get to ‘use’ me?” Bayley laughed.

 

“Maybe some of your good influence finally worked its magic.” Her tone light. Changing as she got serious. “Honestly. You’ve pulled me back twice from doing something I know I would hate myself for. I don’t know where I would be without you Bay. All I know is that I don’t want to become that person again. Not now. And I have you to thank for that. So sorry if I’m getting a bit mushy over the phone. But you just might be my best friend.” Speaking from the heart even though Bayley was multiple time zones away.

 

Bayley found that she actually had to wipe at her eyes when Becky was finished as she said: “God damn you for making me cry Lynch. You’re my best friend too, maybe that’s a commentary on my social life but I don’t care.” She had to sniffle again before she added: “And to quote a movie I bet you haven’t scene ‘That’s two you owe me junior.’” She just happened to look over into her kitchen then and saw the time displayed on her oven. “ _Santa Mierda! Mira la hora!_ It’s 1am here Lynch! Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

 

“I mean, probably. But I’m not tired at all.” Trying and failing to mask a yawn as she curled beneath her covers.

 

“ I swear I will call Liv on you! And then you’ll be in for the worst shin kicking of your life!” Bayley mock admonished, making a mental note as she did to text Liv and Ruby about the beer.

 

“Fine. You win. I guess sleep isn’t the worst idea in the world.” Becky said. Her eyelids already feeling heavy and falling closed.

 

“ _Buenas noches mi amiga, duerma bien.”_

 

Becky would have given a response had she not fallen asleep instantly. Phone slipping from her fingers and sliding onto her pillow. Microphone pointing at her mouth and picking up the steady breathing.

 

 _“Cuidate...si tan solo Charlotte supiera de lo que se estaba engañando a sí misma,”_ Bayley said quietly before ending the call.

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha groaned as she awoke.

 

She’d more or less reconciled herself to constant hangovers but this one seemed extra vicious. And it took her a moment to realize why.

 

The blinds were open in her bedroom, showcasing an extraordinary view of the coastline and the Pacific Ocean. Sasha couldn’t have cared less about this however as the windows were also letting in a LOT of sunlight. Rolling away from them she found herself facing an unfamiliar back and shoulder blades. Blinking she tried to remember who this might be, she assumed they’d slept together judging from the nail marks down the woman’s back. This was something of a signature of hers.

 

Gritting her teeth against the expected pain she turned toward the windows and surveyed the rest of her bed. Zelina was curled up next to her, nude, and on her other side was another woman Sasha didn’t know. A further scan of the room showed her women’s clothing strewn across the floor as well as several bottles scattered around the room.

 

It was only then that she realized that her legs were pinned under something. Looking down she found yet another woman who apparently had fallen asleep on her. Sasha’s bed was a massive circular affair that, despite its five occupants, still had plenty of room to spare. Closing her eyes and letting her head drop back onto her pillow she sighed.

 

Clearing the trash out the morning after was always the hardest part.

 

Some vague details about the party the night before were starting to come back to her. Her head told her that she’d had a lot to drink, so did the empty bottles. But she also remembered doing at least two lines of coke and smoking weed. In the olden days she would never have gotten away with this, Bobby had always kept a VERY tight leash on this sort of thing.

 

Thinking about her former trainer, and the circumstances of his firing, was enough to put her in a bad mood. When she was in a bad mood she sought ways to distract herself and, fortunately, she had four good options to hand. Putting a hand on the shoulder of the woman to her right she turned her gently onto her back and climbed on top of her.

 

Whoever she was, she was game enough. She awoke quickly under Sasha’s lips and began to return Sasha’s affection without comment. A few moments later Sasha felt as much as heard Zelina stirring and so, without stopping what she was doing, snaked a hand out and took her fiance’s wrist to pull her closer. Like the mystery girl, Zelina didn’t protest.

 

Sasha was just getting into a good rhythm of moving back and forth between them when her phone rang. Ordinarily, Sasha would either have ignored it or just let it ring given what she was doing, but this was a very special ring. It was reserved for only two people in the world and one of those wasn’t speaking to Sasha anymore.

 

“Baby…” Zelina whined as Sasha clambered out of bed and snatched her robe from off the corner of the headboard.

 

“Have fun, I’ll come back,” Sasha said distractedly as she grabbed her phone and walked briskly out of the room. She hadn’t quite closed the door before she heard the evidence of Zelina’s 'fun'.

 

When she’d stepped hurriedly out on one of her home’s decks she closed the door behind her and answered the phone saying: “Hello?”

 

“ _Hey! How’s my favorite Cali girl?”_ Ric Flair asked.

 

“Hungover,” Sasha answered plainly.

 

“S _ee? Now I knew there was a reason I liked you, Banks,_ ” Flair laughed.

 

Despite herself, Sasha smiled. “It was a hell of a party last night, I think you would have liked it,” she said.

 

 _“Back in my younger days, I’m sure I would have closed her down with you,”_ Flair said happily.

 

Sasha had actually known Ric Flair back in the day. Before she’d moved out west she’d briefly entertained the idea of training at his gym but at that point, it had mostly been a boxing institution. So she’d moved, but she was a Boston girl, she’d grown up on the legends of the Nature Boy and his exploits in the ring. They’d maintained a small and off the books kind of contact since then, a contact that had developed into, if not pure friendship, then at least mutual admiration.

 

“You don’t call me a lot, whats up?” Sasha asked. This was how they spoke to each other, blunt past the point of rudeness because each knew the other wouldn’t care.

 

“ _Well, I’ve been following you, lady, you know I do, and I wanted to touch base. Things seem to be getting a little crazy out there,”_ Flair explained. Sasha gritted her teeth. Flair was, perhaps, the only person left on the planet who she was still talking to that she’d take this from. But that didn’t mean she was going to be graceful about it.

 

“Oh yeah? You wanna get in my business too then? That’s a bit rich coming from you ‘Mr. Limousine riding, jet plane flying, son of a gun’,” Sasha said sourly, quoting the line Flair himself had liked to use in his youth.

 

Flair chuckled at this: _“Hey, you know I know what I’m talking about. Because I DID all that stuff.”_

 

“Advice noted, anything else?” Sasha asked coldly.

 

“ _Hey now, let’s not be like that. I also wanted to call to tell you something and to ask you a favor,”_

 

“Yeah?” Sasha asked flatly. She wasn’t paying full attention. Her head still hurt and she was thinking about what might be going on in her bedroom right now. There was a very long pause, long enough that she asked: “Hello?”

 

“ _I’m dying Sasha,”_ came the simple three-word response. At first, Sasha thought she must have misheard him.

 

“What?”

 

“ _I’m dying kiddo. Doctors don’t give me long, I wanted you to know,”_ Flair said in a voice far more subdued than Sasha had ever heard from him. She was unable to think of anything to say herself, she just sat heavily on one of her deck chairs and stared blankly out at the ocean. “ _You still with me?”_ Flair eventually asked.

 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m here...I...I’m sorry,” she said, she couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

 

“ _Oh now, don’t start with that. I get plenty of the weepy stuff already, I don’t need it from you. But we’ve been friends for awhile and I thought you should know. Didn’t want you being blindsided by the news. Ha, can you imagine the headlines? Has been boxer finally croaks,”_ Flair joked.

 

“You’re still a legend!” Sasha said, far more heatedly than she’d meant to. But something about Flair’s joking about his death had hit a nerve. She didn’t want to think about a world without him, especially since he was almost all she had left.

 

“ _Maybe, maybe…”_ Flair said soothingly “... _but that's not much comfort as a legacy Sasha. Remember that if you remember anything. All the trophies, the belts, the honors...they don’t bring much comfort when all the chips are down.”_

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

 _“Well, it’s about that favor,”_ Flair explained.

 

“Name it.”

 

“ _I_ _want you to give my girls a break,”_ Flair said firmly.

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes. His ‘girls’ could only be referring to his daughter and Becky Lynch, possibly even Bayley.

 

“Oh yeah? They can’t handle it?” she asked.

 

“ _You know they can but you also know that it’s not helping them,”_ Flair said sternly. Sasha bit back a sharp retort at this. Flair seemed to sense it and he went on: “ _Look, I heard about your meeting with Kairi Sane.”_

 

“How-?” Sasha started to ask but then clammed up. Of course, someone had talked.

 

“ _I’m not complaining or accusing you of anything. Business is business we both know that. But showing up at Charlotte’s press conference? That sort of thing? Come on Sasha, cut them a break. YOU sent Lynch out to us after all,”_ Flair said.

 

“Did you-” Sasha began to demand but he cut her off.

 

“ _No, neither of them know. I kept my word,”_ Flair said. This satisfied but didn’t placate Sasha. She didn’t like being reminded that she’d been the one to send the note and plane ticket to Lynch AND who had arranged for Flair to take her in. It felt like a moment of weakness a lifetime ago now.

 

“So? Seems like you’ve been doing quite well out of it so far,” she said petulantly.

 

“ _We have, but you gotta admit that it’s weird for you to send her out here and then come after her,”_ Flair pointed out.

 

“Yeah yeah,” Sasha muttered. She brooded for a few moments before saying: “Alright Ric, FOR YOU, I’ll lay off them. But if I ever get Lynch in the cage again I’m going to bury her for good!”

 

“ _I wouldn’t want you to do anything less, but watch out, she’s a damned good fighter.”_

 

Sasha chose not to answer this as she stewed awkwardly for a few moments. But eventually, she said: “Ric?”

 

“ _Yeah, darling?”_

 

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna miss you.”

 

“ _I’m sorry too Sasha, I’m sorry too. But there 's no sense in your worrying about what you can’t change. And I DON’T want to be seeing you again for a damned long time so...take care of yourself OK kid?”_ Flair said quietly. Sasha almost smiled, this was what he’d always called her when they’d first met.

 

“OK old man…” she said, trying to smile “...hey Ric? Can I ask you something?”

 

“ _Sure.”_

 

 _“_ You know...you know that reporter that Charlotte had out there?” Sasha asked, twisting the hem of her robe as she did.

 

“ _Martinez? Yeah, she’s a good egg. Great writer too, wish I’d known someone like her back in my day.”_ Sasha tried to smile here, but couldn’t. Her stomach was churning as it never did before a fight.

 

“How...I mean…” she struggled to find words “...we know...KNEW...each other once. How...how is she doing?” There was a long pause, a silence in which Sasha could almost hear the gears turning in Flair’s head.

 

“ _Last I saw she was fine, but she’s not here anymore.”_

 

“What?”

 

“ _Charlotte made the decision that she wanted a new media approach with Lynch. Brought in this little blonde gal, Bliss is her name I think.”_

 

“She hired Alexa Bliss?” Sasha asked, surprised. She knew of Bliss, of course, she was a PR wizard but she was surprised she’d taken the gig. She usually only worked for the cream of the crop.

 

“ _So I hear. Personally, I think she traded down, but last I heard Martinez was on her way back to your neck of the woods,”_ Flair said casually. Sasha’s stomach did a small flip at this but she kept it from her voice.

 

“Thanks, Ric, for everything,” she said awkwardly, unsure if this was the last time she’d ever speak to him. And equally unsure how she felt about it.

 

“ _Don’t mention it, Sasha. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve ever met, just...take care of yourself like I said. Surround yourself with good people and remember what I told you about what matters,”_ Flair said gently.

 

“OK,” Sasha said, almost whispering.

 

“ _I gotta run kiddo, but I'll try to give you a shout here again soon.”_

 

“Yeah, please do,” Sasha said. She would never speak to him again.

 

Sasha sat on her deck, staring at the ocean, for a very long time. Ignoring Zelina when she finally came out looking for her and then sending her scurrying when she started to whine about something.

 

What was she going to do? And even if she figured that out, what DID matter to her.

 

Several hours later Sasha was standing inside a Clex’s not far from her home. She wasn’t eating, Sasha might have done drugs and drank to excess but she still hadn’t crossed the line into junk food.

 

No, she was there in a professional capacity. As part of her contract with Clex’s she had to do a certain amount of these meet and greets at various locations. It just worked out better when it was a five-minute drive.

 

“Hi, thanks for coming,” she said with a smile she hoped wasn’t too obviously false to a few departing guests. She’d been busy more or less since she’d arrived with autographs, photos, etc. This was the first lull and she wanted to do now was sit down. It was absurd but she found this sort of thing much harder to do than actual fighting.

 

“Give me a few I’ll be right back,” Sasha told the restaurant manager as she walked back toward the bathrooms. When she’d locked herself in she look surreptitiously around to make sure there wasn’t some kind of camera on the sinks. When she was sure she dug in her purse and withdrew a small unmarked vial which she drank down in one gulp.

 

This was simply a precaution in her part. If you were going to be a professional fighter AND do hard drugs you needed to use masking agents. Saying a silent thank you to the biochemists who were slaving away to work out new agents to mask drug use, many of whom made more than their colleagues who were working to cure actual diseases

 

She was just finishing up in the stall when she started hearing shouting from out in the main restaurant. Quickly washing her hands she hurried out into the dining area and found a scene of pandemonium. Several members of entourage were pushing and shoving with a group of people wearing black slacks and white shirts with black ties. All this as several horrified patrons looked on. The group in ties were chanting.

 

“END THE FILTH! END THE FILTH!” was their refrain, over and over. Several had signs as well. The restaurant manager and Teddy appeared to be at the front of Sasha’s group and arguing with the leader of the protestors.

 

“...to ask you to leave now sir!” the manager was saying loudly, struggling to be heard over the sound of the chanting.

 

“WE WILL NOT LEAVE! WE WILL NOT STAND ASIDE AS THE MORAL FABRIC OF OUR SOCIETY IS DECAYED BY FILTH PEDDLERS LIKE SASHA BANKS! WE WILL NOT LET OUR CHILDREN’S MINDS BE POISONED!,” the man who must have been the protestors leader shouted back.

 

Sasha had encountered protesters before but those had always been protesting MMA itself. Having them present to protest her personally was a new experience. She felt her temper rising in her gut as she stomped over toward the group. She was only a few feet away the groups noticed her. The protesters surged toward her while her group tried to hold them back.

 

“YOU!...” a woman in her 40’s shouted “...YOU IMMORAL LITTLE SMUT QUEEN! WHY DON’T YOU GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM!” As she shouted this at Sasha she was wagging a finger in her face. Even in a patient person this would have been irritating, to Sasha Banks it was very nearly an invitation to a duel.

 

“What? FUCKING BOSTON? Why don’t you back up off me you racist cunt!” Sasha snapped back.

 

“YOU ARE A LESBIAN SINNER BIMBO PROFITING OFF OF BLOOD SPORTS! YOU ARE A CANCER ON SOCIETY AND WE WILL NOT LET YOU CONTINUE!” the other woman, who Sasha saw was wearing a nametag that read ‘Ivory’ on her blouse. She punctuated her statement by poking Sasha in the chest.

 

“Oh, you don’t want to touch me again you ancient bitch!” Sasha snarled, pushing her face forward right into Ivory’s.

 

“Playa! Calm down, we’re getting you out of her here now!” Teddy was saying as he tried to push his way toward Sasha. But before he could reach her the leader of the protesters shoved his way forward.

 

“THE RIGHT TO CENSOR WILL NOT LET YOU THREATEN ANYONE WITH YOUR WORDS OR YOUR FILTH EVER AGAIN!” he shouted at her.

 

“Oh I’ll turn your skinny bitch inside out to just as soon as I’m done with with this bitch right here!” Sasha growled as pushed the other woman aside to get in the man’s face. As she did his companion tried to grab Sasha’s arm to pull her back. Sasha easily shook her off but also sent her stumbling in the process. Seeing this the groups leader, he was wearing a nametag that read ‘Stevie’, put a hand on Sasha’s shoulder and tried to spin her around.

 

Sasha’s hand moved almost of it’s own volition, driving by years and training and instinct. Before she was even aware of what she was doing she’d cracked him across the face so hard that he went down like a sack of bricks. The effect on the crowd was as though she’d fired a gun in the air. The protesters scattered like a flock of birds startled off a powerline, most shouting recriminations as they went.

 

Sasha somewhat lost track of events then too. All she knew was that Titus had suddenly lifted her bodily off the ground and was hurrying her out of the restaurant as Teddy rushed beside them. “Get her in the car! Quick!” he was barking. A few moments later Sasha found herself dumped in the back of her car which took off a few moments later.

 

“Hey what about my shit?!” Sasha demanded.

 

“I’ll have one of the boys grab it, but we’re getting you out of here now!” Teddy snapped, he almost never shouted at her. He looked nervously back as though he expected to see some kind of pursuit. “That was really fucking stupid playa! You know what kind of shit storm you just kicked up for us?” he demanded.

 

“What the fuck ever man…” Sasha muttered “...that fuck had it coming.”

 

“Maybe but he didn’t need to get it from you! Damn it we just got the Neidhart contract finished up and now I gotta deal with this shit!” Teddy snapped. Sasha had rarely ever seen him this angry. Ordinarily this would have activated her own temper, never far from the surface, but she was smart enough to realize that Teddy was about the only person she had left in her life who tried to look after her best interests. So she was forced to try to do something she was not very good at: be plactory.

 

“It will blow over Teddy, don’t even worry about it. Those fucking weirdos will just back under whatever rock they came from,” she said, unconsciously slipping into the vocal mannerisms of the many people who had been forced to try and soothe her.

 

“Well we just gotta hope you’re right playa because if not we could be seriously fucked,” her manager grumbled, but Sasha sensed he was calming. A moment later he added: “By the way, before you do something else stupid, Sane’s people called and they can meet with you tomorrow so I scheduled it after you pee in a cup for BFA.”

 

**Becky**

 

With another finished class Becky said goodbye to the last of her students. The large influx of new names after her fight making her both happy and intimidated for the increase in popularity. But anything was better than dealing with Alexa and luckily her classes had remained untampered.

 

As was standard for her Becky had taken to putting her phone on vibrate during the classes. Out of respect for her students and in an attempt to set an example for her students.

 

Becky had been a little annoyed by the near constant vibrations early in her lesson, but the fact that it had continued for the entire lesson made her anxious to see who could possible be trying to get a hold of her so tenaciously.

 

Her phone blinked into life and Becky’s eyebrows rose when she saw nearly thirty missed calls from numbers Becky didn’t even know.

 

As if on queue the phone began to vibrate as another call came in. This time it was from a number she knew very well. Even having it programmed into her phone as, ‘$$$’.

 

With her curiosity peaked Becky hit accept. “Hey Shane O’Mac. What’s up with the call?”

 

“ _I’ve told you not to call me that before, but that’s beside the point. I need your help. We had a fighter injure themselves and need a replacement on two weeks notice. I know you weren’t too banged up after your last fight. How about it?”_

 

Becky was eager to get back in the cage. “Of course. I want to get back in there right away." Barely even pausing to ask, “Who’s the opponent?”

 

Shane paused on the other end. _“Nikki Cross.”_

 

“......I’m in.” Becky agreed before she could talk herself out of it. Her other hand already tightly wound into a fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow...these chapters are absolute labors of love and this one felt like it. How dare we make ourselves feel our own feelings?! HOW DARE WE?!
> 
> ...and seriously though...somewhere Tolkien and Homer are like like "god damn it you two have you never HEARD of a red pen?"
> 
> But I digress...
> 
> YOU, our amazing readers, are the reason that Perseverance is still here at all and why it keeps going strong! You honor us with your hits but we'd also love it if you'd give us a kudo, a bookmark, or especially a comment! We love chatting with you!
> 
> Before we get to this chapter I want to point you all to one of BadGoose's many incredible stories: The Queen and Her Attendant. This story follows an AU where Becky Lynch stayed a flight attendant until one day she meets a certain Queen. I highly recommend this story to you all! Find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17193098/chapters/40426304
> 
> OK, onto today's chapter. It's a book, I know, but it's all important. What do you think of Becky post fight? Are her struggles to be expected or is she in danger of slipping? Did Charlotte make the right choice by trying to turn her gym into a brand? Or will she regret sending Bayley home? What will Bayley do now? Should take one of the other team's up on their offers? Is Sasha finally waking up to the kind of person she's become? Or was this just her surfacing one last time before she drowns in the Boss?
> 
> Thanks for Reading!


	9. Chapter 9: California Dreamin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky gets ready for her fight against Nikki.
> 
> Bayley continues trying her best to balance work and life. 
> 
> Sasha schemes and gets a fight of her own. 
> 
> Charlotte deals with some family trouble and tries to keep her business running.

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

After hiring Alexa to help deal with Becky, Charlotte had hoped that she would have more time for other aspects of the business. While she surely did have more time, the amount of work to be done had also increased dramatically. Bringing her to the point where she had begun bringing a bag with a change of clothes to the gym every day. More often than not finding herself falling asleep in her office after getting to a point where she felt partially content with the amount of headway she made. Unfortunately, that point was usually sometime well past midnight and Charlotte was so tired she hardly felt comfortable driving back to her apartment.

 

This particular night was even busier than a normal one. Her contact with Kairi Sane had devolved rather suddenly, leading to her switching her focus to Toni Storm and doubling down on trying to bring in the young woman.

 

Add in Becky accepting the Nikki Cross fight without discussing it with anyone and Charlotte was both overworked and overstressed.

 

Finding her eyes continuing to dart towards the left side of her desk and the few personal mementos she let sit in the open. Looking at the old photo of her and Reid at Fenway Park. Her eyes misting over as she remembered the day well. The large stain on her shirt a reminder of when Reid had accidentally knocked a man’s loaded hot dog onto her trying to catch a foul ball.

 

Behind that was a recent addition. The present Bayley had given her proudly displayed. Their matching smiles pulling at Charlotte’s heart and making her miss the brunette just a little more. All the reasons for why she had severed their professional relationship were no excuse for what she had done to their personal one.

 

Her eyes drifted over to her phone. Innocently sitting on the desk.

 

How easy would it be to just pick up the phone and call Bayley? Maybe try to explain herself and mend some of the bridge she had carelessly, and hopefully only partially, demolished.

 

The tiny electronic device seemed to taunt her with its ability to connect her to someone on the other side of the country so easily.

 

She had tried writing an email to the woman after she had caved and translated Bayley’s letter in google translate. Proving the reporter’s own words.

 

The email was fueled by alcohol, sadness, and irrational anger. Not necessarily in that order, but Bayley’s words had struck a chord that made her feel like the single shittiest human being in the history of the world- no, the universe.

 

One email turned into several. Each one not feeling right or spiraling into her somehow getting mad at Bayley for making her feel like shit.

 

She tried for a few days, but it never seemed right. The words always coming out wrong no matter how many times she rewrote it.

 

At more than one point she had momentarily given up only to be back at it when her mind inevitably drifted away from the work she tried to distract herself with.

 

Charlotte groaned. Fingers stretching towards her phone and swiftly pulling up Bayley’s contact info. Not having the heart to delete the information after they parted ways. Unable to sever that last thread between them.

 

Gathering up whatever courage she had Charlotte called Bayley and put the phone on speaker. Dropping it down onto her desk so she would be less tempted to swiftly end the call before it connected.

 

The first ring felt like a punch to the gut. The second a jab.

 

Charlotte wrung her hands as she waited.

 

_“Hey, this is Bayley! Leave a mess-”_

 

Hearing the other woman’s voice sound so happy sent another wave of guilt through Charlotte. “Ugh! Why do I have to care!” She spoke out loud to the empty room. Leaning back in her chair and letting her head loll to one side. Her eyes falling on the picture of Reid and her.

 

It was too late to do anything more. As much as she may wish that she had some more time with her brother that was impossible. But Bayley… Her friend.

 

Her eyes shifted slightly backward. A fraction of a smile mixing with the melancholy on display.

 

She could still do something about that.

 

Small steps, but at least it was a start. The words Flair and stubborn were synonymous for a reason.

 

Bayley was unusually well dressed to be sitting on her couch. But today was a special occasion.

 

“Thank you for the opportunity to speak to you Mr. Wyatt,” she said as she stared down at her computer screen at the face of Bray Wyatt, the head of Wyatt Combat Academy.

 

“ _Thank you for taking the time to speak with us this morning Ms. Martinez. I don’t know if you can see on your end but with me today is Luke Harper, our head trainer and Erik Rowan who is one of the fighters you’d be covering,”_ Wyatt said as he gestured to the men on either side of them. Bayley was somewhat impressed they’d found a way to get all three of them into the webcam’s view. All three bearded men were huge.

 

“Hey, guys! Nice to meet you!” Bayley said pleasantly. She knew of all three men by reputation, but she’d never actually spoken to any of them before.

 

Wyatt had been one of the earliest figures in BFA history. Back in the sport’s ‘wild west’ period, he’d become famous for his psychological tactics as much as his in-ring skills. None of that stuff would fly anymore of course but he’d transitioned smoothly into the role of trainer, manager, and eventually team owner.

 

Harper was thought of as one of the better coaches in the sport though he had a reputation for being brutally hard on newer fighters. He churned out good products but the process was never pleasant.

 

Rowan was the current prized possession of the Wyatt camp. BFA was one of the few promotions that actually contained an organized ‘super heavyweight’ division and the giant had been dominating it for two years now. He was so well established in fact that Bayley was somewhat surprised that Wyatt had reached out to her.

 

“ _So, you obviously read my email so you know why I’m contacting you. I read your stuff from when you were up in Boston and I have to say I was very impressed with your writing and interviews,”_ Wyatt said with a smile.

 

“Thank you,” Bayley acknowledged the compliment with a nod.

 

“ _And I’m intrigued by the amount of positive press you were able to generate for Lynch and her team. As you may know, we’ve signed our first female fighters just recently: Rose Mary and Jessica Kresa and we’d really like to ensure that they get some good press,”_ Wyatt said.

 

Bayley had heard this, had even discussed the matter on Mo’s podcast. Stil, she had to clear something up right from the start. “It’s an intriguing idea sir, but I do need to make something clear. When I went out to Boston I told Charlotte Flair that I would report fairly and accurately about what I saw. But I never promised; and can’t promise, that I’ll give any kind of preferential treatment to anyone I’m covering.”

 

Wyatt seemed to lean back in his chair, it was hard to tell at this angle, as he looked thoughtful. “ _Alright, that seems fair to me,”_ he said finally. Bayley was certain but she detected a kind of knowing smugness in the man, as though and he and Bayley were both in a shared joke. Though she kept her face perfectly pleasant Bayley was sighing inwardly.

 

She wasn’t mad at Becky for hugging her after her fight with Torres. And she’d gotten over how clumsily the other woman had tried to defend her on GMA. But while Bayley had moved on, she knew that that rest of the MMA world wouldn’t be so quick to forget. She knew she’d have to deal with attitudes like Wyatt’s for a very long time as a result.

 

The interview proceeded apace for several minutes with Bayley asking questions and Wyatt explaining his ideas. Bayley was feeling like it might be time to bring up compensation when her phone vibrated. She ignored it, it was sitting on the arm of her couch and Wyatt wouldn’t be able to hear it. After six rings it went to voicemail and Bayley refocused on what she was doing.

 

For Charlotte, the minutes seemed to drag by as she waited. Arguing internally over the appropriate amount of time before she could try Bayley again without looking desperate.

 

Come to think of it, she didn’t even have a plan for how to go about what would surely be an awkward call. If Bayley decided to even pick up.

 

She looked down at her phone as if it would start ringing and save her the trouble of calling again. With a heavy sigh, Charlotte chastised herself for the thought.

 

If she was going to try and actually repair the fractured relationship she couldn’t be so cowardly.

 

Peering at the clock on her phone she saw that it had only been a few minutes but she decided to press the call button once again.

 

If she knew Bayley as well as she thought she did -or had- Charlotte figured no matter their current issues the reporter’s innate curiosity would be piqued by her calling so soon after she had left Boston.

 

The familiar ringing noise filling her office once again as she waited. Part of her welcoming the procrastination that would come if  Bayley didn’t pick up, even though the larger part would rather just pull the bandage off quickly.

 

Bayley was in the middle of asking a question about Rose Mary when her phone began to ring again. She was annoyed now, she was actually becoming intrigued by Wyatt’s offer. Excusing herself by saying she was getting some water she stood, moved carefully out of the range of her laptop’s mic pickup, and then looked at her phone. Her eyes almost popped as she saw who was calling.

 

Charlotte Flair.

 

Bayley swallowed as she stared down at her phone. She hadn’t been sure if she’d EVER hear from Charlotte again. Though this thought had saddened her, she’d reconciled herself to it. Now, seeing the other woman’s name popping up stirred some powerful feelings inside Bayley.

 

A small, and ignoble, part of her wanted to ignore the call. Not only was she slightly annoyed at being interrupted during her interview but her old wounds about how her time in Boston had ended were still raw as well. But then the more dominant parts of her character began to assert themselves. Not only did she still like Charlotte, despite everything, but she was a good reporter in no small part because she was very curious. She knew how proud Charlotte was and that she wouldn’t have called for no reason.

 

She held a few seconds internal debate with herself before reaching the only decision she really could have.

 

“Mr. Wyatt I am VERY sorry but it seems I’ve had a family emergency pop up, would it be possible for us to continue this conversation at a later time?” she asked as she returned to her couch,

 

“ _Oh...yes, of course. I hope everything is alright. I’ll have my people reach out to you and reschedule with you,”_ Wyatt said.

 

“Thank you, and I apologize again,” Bayley said as Wyatt vanished from her screen. After a few moments, she added, to herself, “I hope everything is OK too.” Picking up her phone and she took a deep breath and hit re-dial.

 

Charlotte had almost resigned herself to calling again, despite how desperate it would make her look in her own eyes, when her phone lit up.

 

Bayley’s name flashed on the screen and now that the moment was actually here Charlotte found herself hesitating to actually pick up. The prospect of facing, even indirectly, Bayley after how she had treated her seemed like an uphill battle with her own pride. Another Flair tradition she not-so-proudly found herself continuing.

 

Closing her eyes she took the plunge. Swiping accept and bringing the phone to her ear. “Hey.” The single word feeling inadequate but somehow the only place Charlotte could start.

 

Bayley was a reporter, she had to engage all sorts of people in conversations all the time. Often, those people would not be all the eager to speak to her. But for some reason, she was reduced to the level of a middle schooler trying to ask another one to dance at this moment. “Hi, Charlotte,” was all she managed to say.

 

It was an awkward start for sure, but at least she hadn’t hung up yet. That had to count for something. “How’s things?” Mentally slapping herself on the forehead for such a clumsy attempt.

 

Part of Bayley wanted to snap ‘really?’ in response to this. Another part wanted to laugh. Instead, she bit the bullet and said: “Well, pretty good in general but this conversation is kind of uncomfortable?”

 

“Yeah. It is.” Charlotte took a deep breath. Even across a country, Bayley could somehow still weirdly intimidate her. “Umm… I have some news…” Barely managing to not fumble over her words.

 

“Oh…” Bayley asked, somewhat surprised at this response “...umm OK, like a statement?”

 

“Something like that…” Charlotte paused. “It’s the least I could do.” Not wanting to directly reference her cold demeanor the last time they met. Her guilt weighing heavier with the other woman on the phone.

 

“People...usually just email them…” Bayley said though she was unsure why. Charlotte seemed to be offering an olive branch after all.

 

“This is… Sensitive information.” The blonde stated. “Needed a more personal approach.” Frustrated with herself that she couldn’t just come out and say what she wanted. Taking another step without knowing where the floor was. “I don’t trust anyone else with this right now.” Wanting to add, ‘and you deserve to know.’ but holding at that.

 

Bayley was silent at this. This was...a lot to take in. Charlotte had let her go in about the coldest way possible without actually being hostile. But now this? Taking a deep breath she decided she knew what she needed to do.

 

“Thank’s... _gringa,”_ was all she said.

 

Charlotte sighed at the small but promising words. “Thought you would want to know that Becky has another fight lined up.”

 

Bayley was still so caught up in the emotional subtext of the call that it took a moment for this to register for her. When it did, however, she was totally aware of the implications of what Charlotte was saying. “I...do...can I ask who she’s fighting?” Bayley finally managed to say.

 

“Marina Shafir dropped out of the Cross fight. Becky’s accepted over the phone and the contract is going to be signed tomorrow.” Charlotte declared. Knowing how friendly Bayley had been with the fighter she was unsure how the woman would take it. From a professional level she would surely be happy with getting out in front of a story. A small measure to make up for the false lead Mandy had given her all those months ago.

 

Bayley wanted to say a lot of things to Charlotte right now. But she decided to handle the professional first as she asked: “What can I do with this information?”

 

“I can’t put my name to it, but you can do whatever you’d like with it. If anyone questions it, you’ll be proven right in a day or so when the BFA officially announces the change.” Charlotte admitted.

 

Bayley wanted to grin like an idiot, this was the kind of scoop that almost never came along. She should have been thrilled. But somehow it seemed less important than the elephant that was still in the room. “How have you been?” she asked softly.

 

“Busy.” Charlotte answered. “Very busy… Will you be at the fight?” She asked with a bit of trepidation.

 

Bayley sensed Charlotte’s nervousness but didn’t leave her twisting for long. “Yeah, I uh...I actually signed a deal to do some stringer work for ESPN for a few months,” she said.

 

“Great. That’s great.” Taking her time before saying, “Feel like I owe you a drink one night.”

 

Bayley had to decide, now. Was she ready to completely forgive Charlotte Flair? She was never going to get a hat in hand expression of contrition, not from that family. But she knew this was the equivalent. She sighed and nodded to herself. “Will...will Alexa be there?” she asked.

 

Charlotte grinned and shook her head automatically. Just because she trusted Alexa from a business perspective, didn’t mean she was fun to be around. “Oh God no. Just us... Like old times.”

 

Bayley knew that her pauses were probably driving Charlotte crazy but she waited anyway. When she felt she’d left the other woman stewing long enough she asked: _“¿Has estado estudiando?” (You've been studying?)_

 

 _“Un poco.” (A little bit)_ Charlotte said. “Google does make things a bit easier though.”

 

 _“¡Tramposa!”  (Cheater!)_ Bayley laughed. She thought for a second and asked: “You have to run now? Or do you have a bit?”

 

“I would be lying if I said I was going to get anymore work done today.” Charlotte admitted. “And I will have you know I did try for a while before I cheated.”

 

“ _Estoy seguro…”  (I'm sure)_ Bayley said sarcastically before switching to English and asking: “How is everyone there?”

 

Charlotte didn’t want to admit how much the question caught her off guard. Truth be told she hadn’t been around the gym much. Not since Alexa had taken over dealing with Becky, and when she was at the gym she usually locked herself in her office. “They’re fine. I think Ruby got another tattoo. Umm… Someone smashed a hole in a cupboard door.” Quickly running out of what she knew happened in her own gym since Bayley had left.

 

Bayley guessed that Charlotte probably had been so busy that she’d hadn’t surfaced often, given this response. Giving up on gossip she asked: “How’s your dad?”

 

There was one of the big reasons why Charlotte had thrown herself head first into her work. “He tries to act like nothing’s wrong, but I can tell. We’re having dinner tomorrow… The last time he requested to have dinner with me was after Reid...”

 

Bayley bit her lip, Charlotte NEVER talked about her brother. Struggling to think of anything else to say she said: “Well, I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

 

“Yeah.” Charlotte changed the subject quickly. Not wanting to drag down the conversation. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but have you suffered through Boss-Z yet? I never thought two people could come across so badly in a show designed around them.”

 

Bayley closed her eyes at this. By all rights she shouldn’t care what Sasha did with her life at this point. But she couldn’t help it, she would probably always care for Sasha even if she didn’t deserve it. “Sadly, I have. It seems like it’s on EVERYWHERE,” she said dully.

 

Charlotte held herself back from verbally beating on Sasha and Zelina. Instead offering something else. “You know I don’t normally give Becky credit for what she says, but she was right on GMA. You deserve better than that.” Speaking on Sasha’s actions, but also holding herself in that same category. Bayley deserved better than Sasha’s pettiness and Charlotte’s callousness.

 

Bayley had to take a moment to consider her response. Several options suggested themselves including a sharp ‘it’s none of your business’ but she didn’t say that. “Thanks, Charlotte, I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to say...that,” she said, actually referencing Charlotte calling her at all and hoping her friend would grasp this.

 

“It wasn’t…” Charlotte leaning back in her chair once again as Bayley’s forgiveness helped her feel a tad better about how she had acted. “Thanks for letting me say that. I was a little worried you’d hang up on me.” She tried joking.

 

Bayley snorted: “Not my style, I probably just wouldn’t have answered at all.” She said this as she sat down on her couch. She was forcibly reminded of how she’d talked to Becky not long ago in this same place. Sighing she took a plunge and said: “Look, Charlotte...you hurt me and I think you know that. But I get that you’re under a lot of stress and I don’t want to lose you as a friend. So...moving on?”

 

“Moving on sounds nice. Listen, I don’t like admitting this, so don’t ask me to repeat it. I’m sorry for how that all went down. I handled it poorly and acted like an ass.” Charlotte forcing herself to push forward and continue her apology. “In retrospect, there are a lot of things I would have done differently.”

 

Bayley let Charlotte hear her sigh this time as she said: “Sometimes I feel like you should have brought me in as a shrink, not as a writer.”

 

“If you want the position is open. I feel like an in house shrink would have a field day here.” Charlotte tried to joke at first, but realized how true her statement probably was. Maybe that wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

 

“So I hear you’re making a big push on some new fighters, care to tell your friend and favorite reporter anything...on the record?” Bayley asked sweetly.

 

“Can’t see the harm in giving you a little something. I’ve been looking to bring in some new fighters. Round out the gym a bit, get some more training partners around Becky who can help push her. Had my eye on Kairi Sane for a bit but she’s dropped off my radar as of late. Toni Storm is a young prospect that I would love to bring on though. Even looking to bring in a new long term head coach for the gym as we expand.”

 

Bayley’s mind was racing as she pulled her laptop toward her and took notes: “Storm? The one from New Zealand? And can I get a hint, or answer, about who you’re chasing down for head coach. AND does that mean Ruby is going to go pro?”

 

“I’ve thrown some feelers out to Storm. The move would be hard, but she seems open to it at least. Ruby’s planning on it in the next few months. Wants more time to focus on herself and get serious. Liv’s a bundle of nerves I’m sure.” Charlotte answered honestly as she could. Lowering her voice just a tad. “I haven’t secured him yet, so the best I can do is give you a hint. Don’t give me any guesses since I won’t confirm or deny any of them.” Charlotte paused for a moment. “If I get him, it will be the equivalent of smacking a hornets nest with your bare hand.”

 

Bayley was grinning again, but in a different way than before. This was the grin of a predator that had just picked up a scent. There was a story here. “Can I quote you?” she asked innocently.

 

“Go right ahead.” She allowed. Not seeing any harm coming from it. Only more press knocking on her door and more work to be done.

 

“Thank you! I should probably get writing then but before I go...how’s Becky?” Bayley asked, now feeling some trepidation in addition to her excitement.

 

“I understand,” Charlotte said. Pausing and gathering her thoughts before answering the next one. Truthfully, a large reason for bringing Alexa in was so that she wouldn’t have to be around Becky. “She’s doing good. She took the fight without asking anyone else so I assume she feels well.”

 

Bayley knew there had to be more than this, especially in lieu of what Becky had told her about their ‘moment’. But she decided she’d pushed things far enough. “Well, tell her I say hi and tell Ruby that I am excited for her. Where would you like to meet up at the fight?” she asked.

 

“How about I text you when we get in town and we can figure it out from there? Becky kind of sprung this on me so I’m still throwing together travel plans. Who’d guess taking a fight on two weeks notice would make more work for me.” Charlotte sarcastically exclaimed.

 

Bayley felt it might be too mean to mention that she knew a thing or two about having sudden travel plans thrust upon you. Instead, she just said: “Looking forward to it! Hope everything goes smoothly for you Charlotte.”

 

“You too.” Charlotte immediately feeling like a hypocrite for the well wishes. Having been such a large reason why Bayley’s life hadn’t been so smooth for the last few weeks. “Take care of yourself _amiga._ ”

  
**Sasha**

 

Sasha remembered thinking that she’d rarely seen Teddy as mad as he’d been after the incident at the Clex’s location. But however mad he’d been then, it was as nothing to how he was now.

 

“GOD DAMN IT SASHA WHAT IN THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?” her manager raged.

  
Sasha didn’t answer, mostly because she knew that if she opened her mouth she’d storm right back. But this restraint was based on the knowledge that Teddy had a perfectly valid reason to be upset at the moment. They had both just received word of two fairly major blows to Sasha’s career. Teddy had immediately called a meeting to try and figure out a way to minimize the damage.

 

The first blow had been the announcement that Sasha had failed the BWF’s pre-fight drug test. Though this was a bit of a misnomer. It was being labeled as a failure but TECHNICALLY Sasha hadn’t actually thrown a positive for any banned substance. What she HAD shown was a very large amount of an unusual substance.

 

The substance was the masking agent that she took so religiously. Had she not been taking it she would have tested positive for, among other things, both marijuana and cocaine. Sasha had arranged to get the stuff discreetly even back before she’d fired Bobby. Now that Simon was her trainer she simply had him get it for her. But masked or not, her sample was causing a problem.

 

The BFA offices seemingly weren’t sure how to handle her test. Brawl For All maintained a very comprehensive list of banned substances which included almost every known masking agent. Almost. But, seemingly because they’d put so much effort into assembling this list, the language in their by-laws was oblique enough that it could benefit Sasha.

 

The tactic Teddy was planning to use was to simply say that as the substance Sasha had tested positive for was NOT actually on the banned list, BFA had no grounds to suspend her. This was sophistry at it’s finest of course and everyone would see through it. BUT, Sasha was arguably BFA’s biggest star and generally considered the face of the promotion. Both she and Teddy knew that if they could dangle a lifeline to Shane McMahon, however feeble, he would take it.

 

The second issue was far more difficult to manage. Teddy had been informed that morning that the group that had been protesting at her appearance, they called themselves ‘Right to Censor’ was suing her. Specifically, the group's leader, a man named Steven Richards, was suing her for emotional and physical harm resulting from when Sasha had punched him.

 

Teddy’s lawyer, Jimmy Hart, had managed to get the criminal case dismissed through various legal dodges. But the civil case would be more of a problem. Jimmy had tried to argue that Sasha, a woman, had felt threatened by Richards. This argument might normally have worked except that Sasha was one of the best pure fighters in the world and Richards was a middle-aged man.

 

“We need to settle,” Teddy told the room. Both Jimmy and Titus nodded as Sasha looked around at them incredulously.

 

“Fuck that!” she snapped, finally giving free reign to her temper. “That bastard was asking for it! If you pick a fight then you gotta be willing to finish it!” she said as she slapped the table with her palms.

 

“That might work in the cage darling, but it won’t work out here in the world,” Hart put in.

 

“If you call me ‘darling’ again I will end you!” Sasha started to growl but Teddy jumped in.

 

“Listen playa, we don’t got much of a choice. Those nutjobs somehow convinced Paul Heyman to take their case,” Teddy said, sounding intimidated for almost the first time since Sasha had met him,

 

“So?” she demanded.

 

“PAUL HEYMAN…” Teddy repeated, sounding surprised that Sasha wasn’t cowering.

 

“Yeah, repeating the name won’t make me know who that is,” Sasha said sarcastically.

 

“The one who made the Montreal Screwjob happen?” Hart put in. That brought Sasha up short.

 

“Oh...shit…” she muttered.

 

“Hell yeah ‘oh shit’ ya dummy! Now you understand why we need to settle this and fast?” Teddy demanded. Sasha was silent for a long time, she HATED the idea of settling. Settling would be tantamount to her admitting defeat, and if her engagement to Zelina proved anything it was that she hated doing that.

 

“How much,” she finally asked as she sank down in her chair with a hand over her eyes.

 

“At least a million, probably a bit more,” Jimmy said.

 

“WHAT?! Sasha shouted.

 

“You fractured his zygomatic and gave him a severe concussion Ms. Banks if they’d made the criminal charges stick that could have meant jail time. Now I’ll try to knock that figure down but you should be prepared for a million,” Hart explained.

 

“ONE FUCKING MILLION DOLLARS?! That will wipe out everything I earned from the Clex’s endorsement!” Sasha shouted at him. It was then that she noted the looks that Teddy and Titus were giving her. “What?!” she demanded, not sure she would be able to prevent herself from breaking things at any more bad news.

 

“Clex’s called this morning when the news broke on the suit and the failed test. They are suspending our business relationship until such time as their board and ownership can meet,” Teddy told her mercilessly.  

 

Sasha was floored by this. All that money...gone?

 

“They can’t do that!” she insisted with more heat than conviction.

 

“The fuck they can’t! It’s standard language in all your endorsement deals! You get the money as long as you read the scripts and don’t do something fucking stupid like fail a drug test or punch someone in the client’s restaurant!” Teddy shouted back.

 

“FINE!” Sasha roared, her temper taking over now. She stood and stamped around the conference table for a while, having to work very hard to keep from punching something. Only the knowledge that she’d need her fists for Neidhart soon kept her from doing so. When she was calm enough to speak again she rounded on Hart and snapped: “Five hundred thousand and not a god damned cent more!”

 

“That-” the lawyer started to say but Sasha slammed her fists on the table again and brought her face right up to his.

 

“NOT...ONE...CENT...MORE! If they won’t take it then we’re going to court and you’d better fucking win!” Sasha snarled. She glared at him for several seconds but he chose not to answer. Turning back to Teddy Sasha asked: “So what do we do now?”

 

“You don’t say or do anything with even a LITTLE media impact. Just train during the day and go home afterward! Don’t go out! Don’t even FUCKING call anyone! Got it?” Teddy demanded. Sasha bridled at this and so just glared at him. “I am going to be on the goddamn phone all morning trying to convince the rest of your endorsements not to jump ship as well!”

 

This shut Sasha up. She hadn’t even realized this was a possibility. All of her dreams of becoming a true media figure were crumbling before her eyes. All because of some whiny little pissant who couldn’t finish what he started. It was so unfair!

 

“What does this mean for the fight?” she finally asked, when she thought she could keep her voice somewhat in check.

 

“Nothing…” Teddy said, as he deflated with a sigh. “The contract is signed and we got you clear of the test. Just, for the love of god, don’t do anything stupid before the fight! Keep your head down and just shut up,” he said as he left the room.

 

Any number of angry things to shout after them suggested themselves to Sasha. But, almost for the first time since she’d won her title, she bit her tongue. What did it matter anyway? She was going to destroy this bitch Neidhart and then everything would be fine. She’d make enough on the winners purse that she could pay this dumb settlement and forget about it. She was still the fucking boss, and she’d remind everyone of it.

 

When she left the conference room she decided she was done for the day. Not bothering to inform Simon she simply marched down the the parking lot and got in her lamborghini aventador. Using the console she sent a text to Zelina that read: “ _Be back at the house, in the bedroom, by the time I get back. NO FUCKING CAMERAS”_

 

Paying little attention to the traffic laws, she roared along the streets of LA.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley smiled as she heard the commercial returning music in her ear.

 

“ _Bienvenidos de nuevo a ESPN Deportes, esto es 'Tale of the Tape'! Soy vuestro anfitrión: Eric Escobar! Seguimos hablando con Bayley Martinez de MMAyley.com. Bien, Bayley, todos hemos oído las noticias que Becky Lynch ha aceptado una pelea contra Nikki Cross de Celtic Combat Sports, el antiguo equipo de Lynch. Pasaste mucho tiempo en Boston con Lynch, dínos: ¿dónde crees que está su cabeza ahora mismo?_ ”

(Welcome back to ESPN Deportes, this is 'Tale of the Tape'! I am your host: Eric Escobar! We continue talking with Bayley Martinez of MMAyley.com. Well, Bayley, we've all heard the news that Becky Lynch has accepted a fight against Nikki Cross from Celtic Combat Sports, the former Lynch team. You spent a lot of time in Boston with Lynch, tell us: where do you think her head is right now?)

 

Bayley took a second to collect herself before saying: “Gracias, Eric. Me gusta pensar que ahora conozco a Becky Lynch un POCO mejor de lo que lo hacía antes de que pasara tiempo en su base pero no sé si puedo decir exactamente lo que está pensando o sintiendo.

(Thanks, Eric. I like to think that I now know Becky Lynch a LITTLE better than I did before I spent time at her camp but I do not know if I can say exactly what she is thinking or feeling.)

Lo que sí puedo decir es que, de todas las cosas que perdió en la espiral hacia abajo que sufrió tras su pelea con Sasha Banks, lo que más echa de menos son sus relaciones con la gente de CCS. Sé que es muy feliz donde está pero perdió algunos amigos así que imagino que lo que está sintiendo es muy complicado.”

(What I can say is that, of all the things she lost in the downward spiral that she suffered after her fight with Sasha Banks, what she misses the most are her relationships with the people of CCS. I know she's very happy where she is but she lost some friends so I guess what she's feeling is very complicated.)

 

“ _Pero no puede ver ésta como cualquier otra pelea, ¿verdad? Esta es una situación emocionalmente cargada, como ha dijiste. Crees que ese pequeño elemento extra le será de más motivación? O podría ser una distracción?_ ”

(But you can not see this like any other fight, right? This is an emotionally charged situation, as you said. Do you think that small extra element will be more motivating? Or could it be a distraction?)

 

“Por muy turbulenta que haya sido su vida fuera de la caja, puedo decir, con seguridad, que Becky Lynch no es nada sino profesional en cuanto a la vida dentro de la caja se refiere. Se acercará a ésta como a cualquier otra pelea. ¿Y cuando suene la campana? Bueno, eso tendremos que verlo,” Bayley answered.

(No matter how turbulent her life has been outside the ring, I can safely say that Becky Lynch is nothing but professional in terms of life inside the ring. She will approach this as any other fight. And when the bell rings? Well, we'll have to see what happens)

 

“ _¿Qué me dices del producto dentro del ring? Sólo hemos visto a Lynch de vuelta por una pelea. Parecía muy convincente en ella pero crees que aguantará bien contra Cross?”_ Escobar asked.

(What about the product inside the ring? We've only seen Lynch back for a fight. She seemed very convincing in her fight but do you think she'll hold up well against Cross?)

 

“Ahí sí puedo estar segura dando un definitivo ‘sí’. Desde que Becky Lynch volvió al deporte, hemos visto una luchadora más paciente y prudente. En su máximo, Cross y ella eran muy similares en el hecho que empleaban un ataque de bombardeo con todo. Ahora, sin embargo, como luchadora más experimentada que solía usar esa técnica, creo que puede tener una ventaja.”

(There I can be sure giving a definite 'yes'. Since Becky Lynch returned to the sport, we have seen a more patient and prudent fighter. Before, Cross and she were very similar in that they used a blitzing attack. Now, however, as a more experienced fighter with better technique, I think Becky may have an advantage.)

 

 _“Así que la eliges a ella para que gane?”_ Escobar asked, eagerly pouncing on Bayley’s answer.

("So you choose her to win?)

 

“Oh, vamos, Eric. Sabes que en realidad yo nunca hago eso,” Bayley teased.

("Oh, come on, Eric. You know that I never really do that,")

 

“ _Tenía que intentarlo, no? Imagínate si lo hicieras por primera vez aquí!”_

_("I had to try, right? Imagine if you did it for the first time here! ")_

 

“Ya, lo entiendo.”

(I understand)

 

“ _Nos hemos referido a tus pasadas interacciones con Becky Lynch en nuestra conversación. Soy el primero en tenerte en un show desde la famosa entrevista en GMA. Tienes algo que comentar sobre eso?”_

_("We have referred to your past interactions with Becky Lynch in our conversation. I am the first to have you on a show since the infamous interview on GMA. Do you have anything to comment on that?)_

 

Bayley had to fight to keep herself from biting her lip. She’d worried this might come up. She’d been able to avoid addressing this so far by avoiding media appearances and concentrating on her writing. But when Deportes had called she’d felt compelled to say yes. The Spanish language network had next to no MMA coverage so when it had announced it was going to start airing ‘Tale of the Tape’ she’d decided that if she ever got asked she’d go on.

 

Here she was.

 

Taking a few seconds to compose her answer she said: “Obviamente no creo que Becky manejó aquello tan bien como podría haberlo hecho. También creo que ella ya lo sabe.”

(Obviously I do not think Becky handled that as well as she could have done. I also think she already knows that. ")

 

_“Pero seguro que sabes cómo se ve a Becky Lynch enfadándose tan apasionadamente por ti para el espectador casual. Especialmente cuando lo juntamos con cómo te buscó después de su última pelea. Crees que es válido que la gente se cuestione tu integridad periodística si Becky y tú sois obviamente amigas?”_

(But you know how Becky Lynch getting so passionate about you looks for the casual viewer. Especially when we put it together with how she looked for you after her last fight. Do you think it's valid for people to question your journalistic integrity if you and Becky are obviously friends?)

 

Bayley took a deep before saying: “Sé cómo puede parecer. Y no puedo negar que Becky Lynch es amiga mía. Pero creo que cualquiera que vea mi informe desde Boston verá que no fui suave con ella. Fui muy crítica con algunas de sus acciones y decisiones y me mantengo. Si Becky estuviera aquí, aún lo haría. En cualquier caso, ya no estoy en la base de Lynch así que no creo que sea un problema en este punto.”

(I know how it can look like. And I can not deny that Becky Lynch is a friend of mine. But I think that anyone who sees my report from Boston will see that I was not gentle with her. I was very critical with some of their actions and decisions and I maintain my credibility. If Becky was here, she would agree. In any case, I'm not in Lynch's camp anymore so I do not think it's a problem at this point.)

 

“ _Ah, pero estarás cubriendo la pelea Lynch-Cross. Anticipas algún problema con eso?”_

_("Ah, but you'll be covering the Lynch-Cross fight. Do you anticipate a problem with that? ")_

 

Bayley wanted to grit her teeth but kept her smile and said: “Ninguno. Estoy esperando una noche de MMA espectacular!”

("None. I'm waiting for a spectacular night of MMA! ")

 

After that, the conversation shifted away from Bayley to the upcoming fights themselves, to her great relief. A few minutes later the interview concluded and Bayley was able to leave. Not for the first time she was regretting Becky Lynch’s passionate nature. She had been touched that Becky and defended her so vehemently, but the irritation of dealing with the fallout had far eclipsed that.

 

As she made her way out to her car she ran through the rest of her day. She had a few more interviews with teams interested in having her embedded with them. After that, she had writing to do and then was going out with Emma. She simply couldn’t blow the other woman off again at this point.

 

The next few days got even more hectic for Bayley as she, and the MMA world, prepared for Brawl For All 44. The nerves of covering a fight being increased tenfold by the knowledge that the card would contain both Becky AND Sasha. The only small oasis of calm she seemed to have to look forward to was getting drinks with Charlotte.

 

“ _Ni siquiera tú puedes arruinar eso.”_ she told herself as she started her car.

("Even you can not ruin that.")

 

**Becky**

 

Becky didn’t believe in ghosts, but after last night she was beginning to rethink her stance on the subject.

 

It had only been a day since she had signed the contract for the fight and now that everything was official the hard work began. The shittiest part being that, because of taking the fight with only thirteen-day notice to make weight Becky was going to be basically starving herself to accomplish in thirteen days what she normally did over the course of a normal six to eight-week fight camp before a fight.

 

She was sure she could still get down to the weight limit, but it wouldn’t be as easy as normal. Eating the bare minimum to get her up and moving so that she could get in some workouts and keep her metabolism burning calories.

 

Add in the interview Alexa had scheduled for today and Becky hadn’t been able to get much sleep.

 

Not to mention the looming cloud that would inevitably hit land when she flew to California for the fight.

 

At her last fight, she had been able to avoid crossing paths with her old team, but that would be impossible this time.

 

Becky found herself assuming the worst, but if you asked her to describe what exactly she was afraid of happening she didn’t know if she could give a good answer.

 

If she wasn’t so sure the whispers were in her own head Becky may have blamed it on ghosts.

 

She still didn’t think ghosts existed in the way most people did, but she knew a type of ghost would always be with her. There was no shaking hers. They were the type that had a permanent residence once you let them in.

 

Becky shook her head as she looked at herself in the mirror. Taking in all the work Mickie and her team of stylists had put in to make her look so… Not Becky.

 

The only thing she had managed to talk them into that seemed like her was an elaborate pattern of braids on the left side of her head. Although it may not as much been her talking them into it, as it was them throwing her a bone.

 

Beyond that they had worked on her hair and makeup like she was canvas for their work.

 

She would have complained endlessly about how long they took but she was more distracted by the clothing Alexa and the crew had decided on. A tight emerald green dress that ended just above her knee and a pair of strappy heels that had Becky worried for her own balance. She never had much practice walking in heels and hadn’t ever gone out of her way to fix that.

 

As she stared at herself in the mirror just minutes from her interview with Mandy Rose, Becky cringed at how fake she felt. Like someone’s version of what they wished she was. Safe and marketable. Not the damaged individual who was no one’s role model.

 

She didn’t like it.

 

“Wow! Look at you! Never thought I’d see the day Becky Lynch wore a dress.” Charlotte teased from the doorway. “When Alexa told me I just had to come see for myself.”

 

Becky took another look in the mirror before she closed her eyes and turned around. Flashing a bright but fake smile at the other woman. “You should buy a lottery ticket. Don’t think this is ever happening again.” Her smile creeping towards genuine when Charlotte chuckled at her joke. “Get your pictures while you can.”

 

Charlotte shook her head and stared at Becky with a look she couldn’t decipher. Almost like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. “I think the look is missing something.” Tapping her chin with one finger as she thought. “Give me a few seconds.”

 

The Irish woman watched as Charlotte searched till she found a canvas bag that the blonde must have brought for herself. Reaching inside and grabbing something before turning around to see Becky watching her every move.

 

“Turn around. I think you’ll like it.” Charlotte said with certainty. “Close your eyes too. No using the mirror to cheat.”

 

Becky sighed and somewhat begrudgingly complied. Closing her eyes and tapping her foot. Quickly remembering the heels she had on after she nearly toppled and ceased her tapping. “Alright. Go ahead Charlie. Although I hold onto my right to veto.”

 

Becky head the blonde laugh as she closed in. “Of course. But I don’t think you will.”

 

The next thing the redhead felt was Charlotte draping something over both her shoulders. The weight significant but not too heavy. Soft but not delicate.

 

When she opened her eyes she froze. “So… Do you like it? I had it made for you after your last fight. Thought you could use a new one, considering your old jacket looks like it’s seen better days.”

 

“It’s great… Perfect.” Becky managed to get out. Looking in the mirror and admiring the new light brown leather jacket draped over her shoulders. A tiny golden shamrock dangling for the zipper, while the inside seemed to be lined with a fine material that felt like silk against her skin. “Thanks, Charlotte. This must have cost you a lot.”

 

Charlotte waved away the words. “It actually cost me nothing. We just got a sponsorship with Colt Leather Works, and Cabana wanted to make you something special.”

 

“Still... I appreciate it.”

 

“Look inside the lining.” Charlotte directed.

 

Becky raised an eyebrow but did as she suggested. Finding herself torn between laughing and crying at small words stitched into the lining. ‘To be the man...’ embroidered in fancy lettering above an old newspaper clipping of Ric having his hand raised in black and white. Right next to that image a black and white picture of Becky after her latest victory.

 

“THREE MINUTES!” Came the call from one of the stagehands who drew the short straw and had to keep Becky on schedule.

 

She quickly slipped her arms inside the jacket and looked at herself in the mirror once again. “I’d better get moving.” Slipping quickly past Charlotte and pausing in the doorway. “Thanks for the jacket.”

 

Becky didn’t wait for a response. More concerned with getting in front of the camera without her makeup getting messed up.

 

Finding her way to the stage and sitting down in the open seat next to Mandy who was studiously looking at her notes and talking to herself. Preparing for the interview in her own way.

 

Becky got sidetracked when she spotted the craft service table and the delicious smell of all sorts of food wafted over and reminded her of what she couldn’t have. Stomach growling in protest at being so close to a source of food and being unable to have any.

 

She pulled her attention away and refocused on something else. Trying to instead start up a conversation with the blonde next to her. “Hey. Nice day isn’t it?”

 

Mandy looked up from her notes for a second but moved her gaze right back down. “Let’s not waste time with pleasantries. We aren’t going to be friends. I’m not an amatuer like Martinez”

 

Becky felt like she had been slapped. The other woman’s tone already hostile and she hadn’t even started being an ass yet. “You seem fun. Must be great at parties.”

 

The blonde spared a moment to give her a glare, but stonewalled her until they were just about to start.

 

It went well to start. Simple questions that didn’t require too much thought.

 

Complain as she might about Alexa the tiny woman knew her stuff. She had quizzed Becky on the likely questions that would be asked and even though she was annoyed by it, Alexa had a great mind for this thing. Her meticulous attention to detail was a byproduct of her need to control the situation and be ahead of the game.

 

Becky was the exact opposite with things like these. She used to just go out to these interviews and media events and wing it. Go with the flow and give her authentic first response to the questions she would be asked rather than thinking thru her answers beforehand.

 

After a few questions about the fight that she was well prepared for Becky started to feel like she was missing something. She knew the answers she was giving were fairly cookie cutter and that most journalists would be getting annoyed with them by this point. Yet Mandy hadn’t so much as reacted in mild irritation to her answers even though this interview was turning into a real bore. Not a bad interview but one that most certainly wasn’t must see viewing.

 

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up when Mandy’s entire demeanor shifted. Leaning forward in her chair and clasping her hands. Her expression turned serious as she spoke softly, yet with a hint of superiority that came from a position of power, or having leverage over someone.

 

“You are obviously aware of the rumors surrounding you and Bayley Martinez. Am I correct in assuming this?” Condescension dripping from every word. Becky knew that Mandy would have seen the GMA interview so she was obviously trying to annoy her. Becky wished she could say that it wasn’t working.

 

“Yep. Real shot in the dark there.” Becky commented, which Mandy ignored.

 

“Would you like to amend your statements from the GMA interview?”

 

Becky squinted at Mandy and shook her head. Her fingers playing with the bottom hem of her dress and pulling it down. Feeling awkward and exposed dressed up like this in front of a woman who looked like she would be at home in these type of clothes, when Becky felt anything but.

 

Mandy’s expression didn’t change save for the slight tilt at the corner of her mouth. “So, you tend to go to your ‘friends’ hotel room and stay there for hours?”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Becky asked.

 

Someone off screen must have done something because the next thing Becky knew a large monitor behind them lit up with a shaky video clearly taken by a phone that was zoomed in as far as it possibly could.

 

Becky felt oddly violated, not for herself but for Bayley who didn’t deserve this sort of scrutiny. Becky had opted into this world and knew the potential downsides. “That’s not what it looks like.”

 

Mandy’s grin slowly widened at her ‘gotcha moment’ catching Becky off guard and putting her in a corner. “Oh. What is it then? Because, as we can clearly see in the footage, it looks like you and Ms. Martinez embracing in the doorway of her hotel room which you had been cohabiting for several hours. I wouldn’t want to lead anyone on, but that seems awfully personal for a friend. Let alone a reporter who is SUPPOSED to be unbiased.”

 

Becky saw two blonde’s out of the corner of her eye and knew that both Charlotte and Alexa were probably having fits right now.

 

With everything that has been going on in her life and having to do this interview while cutting weight, Becky tapped into some of the venom that still ran through her veins. “I’m really getting sick of people trying to make sweeping generalizations on her character because of bullshit.”

 

“So, you aren’t close with Ms. Martinez?” Mandy interrupted.

 

Becky growled at being cut off. “I didn’t say that.”

 

“So you are close.”

 

“Yes.” Her answer quick. Not wanting to be around this irritating woman a moment longer than she had to.

 

“How close?”

 

Becky had to stop herself from lunging at the reporter. “None of your damn business. Even if we were together it wouldn’t stop Bay from covering my fights and remaining objective.”

 

“So you’ve broached the subject with her and found how she feels about all this extra attention?” Mandy asked. The question momentarily stopping Becky in her tracks.

 

She had tried to avoid talking about this subject with Bayley after the whole GMA incident and hated that Rose made a good point. But even if she did talk to the brunette she would almost surely say that she was fine and to let people think what they wanted. Was she being selfish and actually hurting Bayley’s career just because she craved real companionship? Platonic or otherwise.

 

“I’m going to assume that was a no then.” Mandy exclaimed. Just the sound of her voice making Becky want to bash her own head into a wall. “Do you have anything you’d like to say. To the audience… To her?”

 

Becky jumped up and tore off her mic. “This interview if feckin over.” She snarled.

 

Mandy couldn’t help but prod. “If this is how you act I wish her the best of luck. Dealing with you in a relationship must be tough.”

 

She wasn’t sure who was the first one to grab ahold of her, but before she knew it Becky was being pulled back by both Charlotte and Alexa.

 

They had managed to stop her before she made any contact with Mandy, but both blondes knew this was not a good look. Maybe there was a way to spin it but for right now they just had to get Becky away from the antagonistic journalist.

 

“Let me at the blonde Barbie. I will rip her head off an feed it to a goddamn tiger.” Becky growled out between gritted teeth. Struggling against their grips before giving up when she realized all she was doing was tiring herself out.

 

“Get her out of here.” Alexa ordered. “I will try and smooth things over. Figure out some damage control.”

 

Charlotte must have nodded because the next thing Becky knew she was being steered out of the room.

 

She only allowed herself to be controlled before so long before she threw Charlotte’s hands off her and stormed off to her dressing room. Slamming the door shut and collapsing onto the blue couch that had been jammed into the relatively small room.

 

With a deep sigh she closed her eyes pressed her palms directly into them. Groaning out loud as she started to calm down and realize what she had just nearly done on camera. She had prided herself on being more patient but Mandy just seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons.

 

Why did she let those comments get to her so much?

 

The answer was right in front of her eyes; Because they weren’t about her. Becky could deal with people saying horrible things about her because on some level she felt she deserved it.

 

Bayley didn’t.

 

**Becky**

 

“That was good.” Ric declared with just a hint of trepidation. “I still would like to see you keep that right hand tucked to the chin when you throw the left. It’s dropping just a bit, but anything is too much.”

 

It was a late night at the gym. Everyone else had gone home for the day and Ric was making good on his promise to show Becky a few of his old tricks.

 

Which to Becky’s sarcastic annoyance didn’t involve any illegal, or at the very least shady, moves.

 

“Alright.” Becky said. Resetting herself and throwing the combo into the bag one more time. Making extra effort to listen to Ric’s advice.

 

She continued to work until Ric was satisfied. Which in his mind required doing the combo fifty times in a row perfectly, otherwise the count would reset.

 

Even though Becky continued to feel abnormally drained by the harsh and quick weight cut Ric’s teaching style and infectious energy helped pull her not think about it.

 

Picking up a towel Becky swiped away the sweat that dripped down from her forehead. Taking a deep breath as she steadied her breathing and tried to cool down.

 

“Thanks for the help Ric.” She said. “You still know your stuff.”

 

“Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I forgot everything I learned.”

 

Becky laughed and pulled a bottle of water out. “Could have fooled me.”

 

A large grin spread on Ric’s face. “Ouch.” Mockingly holding his hand over his heart and shaking his head. “I’m proud of you though.”

 

The unexpected praise made Becky blush a little. Although it was hard to tell after such a good workout. “Thanks.”

 

Ric’s expression turned more serious and his hand found their way to his hips. “Just tell me I’m overstepping my boundaries. Ok?”

 

Becky narrowed her eyes but nodded. “I’ll tell you.”

 

“I’m not sure how best to say this but… When I walked in on you and Charlotte, I felt like I was interrupting something.” Ric peered at Becky while he spoke. “Is there something going on between you and my daughter?” He asked point blank.

 

Becky’s mouth opened and closed several times. Not expecting the conversation to head this way at all. “Um… I… It’s complicated.”

 

“Love normally is.”

 

Immediately Becky scoffed at the notion. “Love? I wouldn’t call it that.”

 

Ric grinned. “So, what would you call it?”

 

“I don’t know.” Becky answered truthfully. She felt uncomfortable having this conversation, but she recognized that as Charlotte’s father Ric was allowed to question her. Especially given her

very public past. “She’s frustrating. I don’t know where I stand with her.”

 

“You know she’d probably say the same about you.” Ric declared.

 

Becky looked down at the ground and worked at unravelling the tape around her wrists. “You aren’t the first one to say that.”

 

A soft smile graced Ric’s face. “Bayley?”

 

Her movements paused briefly. Returning to the almost clock like rotation as she slowly peeled away the layers. “Yeah. It was her.”

 

A knowing look took over Ric’s face. “She’s a perceptive one.”

 

“Yeah… She is.”

 

“Wish Charlotte would have kept her around.” Ric honestly stated. Shocking Becky that he would openly go against what Charlotte had decided.

 

“Yeah.” The Irish woman muttered. Her mood dampening as she was reminded of yet another person that had left her. Even though it wasn’t Bayley’s fault it didn’t stop Becky from feeling abandoned.

 

Ric noticed her mood shifting. “At least you’ll get to see her at fight week.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Ric sighed. “Look I’m not here to tell you what you should do with your life. I know you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” The remark getting the desired result; a small fraction of a smile on Becky’s face. “But surrounding yourself with good people is important. Don’t push a girl like that away. Eventually she won’t come back.”

 

Becky started walking towards the stairs. Hearing his words clash with her own internal struggle. “See ya tomorrow Ric.”

 

“Becky!” He called out loudly. Unknowingly waking up someone who had been sleeping in her office.

 

The redhead continued to walk. Head tilted downwards as she tried to put her thoughts together. Trying her best to ignore the man behind her. Introspection was never something she enjoyed doing even in the best of circumstances.

 

“Becky… Beck… Rei—” The unfinished word followed by the sound of a loud thump.

 

Becky heard the loud thump and turned around to see where the noise had come from. Her eyes widening as she dropped everything and sprinted the short distance to Ric’s side. Falling down to her knees and sliding several feet. Her own momentum taking her past him and forcing her to crawl back. His unnaturally still body lying face down on the floor.

 

“Ric?” Becky spoke with urgency. One unsteady hand grabbing onto the man’s shoulder and shaking him. Hoping for some sort of reaction but getting none.

 

“What’s all the noise for?”

 

Becky looked up with wide eyes as Charlotte descended from her office. Wiping the sleep out of her eyes and yawning before she noticed her father.

 

“Ric?” She asked. Her eyes widening as her brain caught up to what she was seeing. Running over and kneeling on Ric’s other side. The shaking in the blonde’s hands obvious as she reached down but avoided actually making contact with his body. “Dad? Dad? Can you hear me? Please… Say something.” Charlotte grabbed a hold of one of his hands and held it up to her chest. “Daddy?”

 

Becky’s heart was breaking as she listened to Charlotte. Taking a deep breath since she knew that right now, she needed to try and be strong. Reaching down to feel for Ric’s pulse. Letting out a heavy sigh when she felt it relatively steady against her fingers. Also noting that the old man was also breathing on his own power. “He’s breathing. We shou—”

 

Charlotte’s attention suddenly shifted to Becky like she hadn’t even been aware the redhead had been there. Her eyes narrowing with a crazy glint to them. The dark circles beneath her eyes making the turquoise spheres stand out in the low light of the gym. “What did you do?”

 

Becky didn’t know how to respond. Her mouth opening and closing before she spoke. “He just collapsed. I don’t know what happened.”

 

“What were you doing?”

 

“We were just talking. I didn’t—”

 

“Do something useful and call an ambulance.” Charlotte spat out. Clearly not believing Becky in the moment. Obviously not thinking straight, but that didn’t stop Becky from feeling a sting of hurt at the callous words.

 

“Alright. I’ll do that.”

 

“Then DO IT! Stop wasting time!” Charlotte cried out. Uncaring of the tears that streamed down her face. “I told him you were bad news the second he brought you in. You’re like a disease. Everywhere you go ends up dealing with your shit.”

 

Becky swallowed hard. Determined to try and ignore the words as they cut her to her core. The blonde using everything she had learned about Becky to hit her hardest. No doubt wanting someone to feel as bad as she did right now. Even if Becky could rationally understand that it didn’t stop her from feeling like an elephant was sitting on her chest. “My phones in my room.”

 

“Then why the fuck are you still here?” Charlotte questioned.

 

Not bothering to respond, Becky turned and sprinted up towards her room. Intending to get her phone, but also get away from Charlotte. Unable to stop her own tears as she worried over Ric and lamented the blonde’s words.

 

Ruminating on them as she waited in the emergency room with Charlotte. The blonde

purposefully sitting as far as she could from Becky.

 

As they got the news that it didn’t seem to be serious, she was still thinking about what Charlotte said.

 

When the doctor told them that they would be keeping Ric under observation for the next week, Becky nodded along even though she wasn’t really hearing much of his words. Still thinking back on Charlotte’s.

 

Maybe she wasn’t being abandoned.

 

Finn, Dave… Bayley.

 

Maybe they weren’t abandoning her. Maybe they just realized she wasn’t worth it.

 

**Charlotte**

 

The best way for Charlotte to distract herself was through work.

 

She had spoken to her father daily, but they were scheduled to fly out in two days and there was still so much work to be done. Enough work that Charlotte could easily ignore the pang in her heart when she saw Becky and noticed how she would shut down whenever Charlotte came into the room.

 

Today was an important day though and she needed to keep her head in the game. Another great excuse to avoid going over and just apologizing to the Irish fighter for her undue harsh words.

 

She opened the door to the gym and held it open wide. “Glad you could make it.”

 

“Thanks. I have to admit. This place looks pretty nice. Not exactly what I was expecting from an old guy like Ric.” Bobby Lashley said as he walked inside the gym with a full duffel bag over his enormous shoulder.

 

“ **I’ve** been busy.” Charlotte emphasized that she was in charge now. “I know when I first contacted you we had no fight lined up for Becky and I wouldn’t expect you to make a decision so quickly.”

 

Lashley held up a hand. “It’s alright. Things happen quickly in this sport. So… Where is she?”

 

Charlotte waved him further inside. “She’s in the ring right now. Working with Ruby, who is just about to turn pro.”

  
The massive man nodded as he followed the blonde from the lobby to the actual gym itself. “If you don’t mind. I’d prefer talking to her alone for a bit.”

 

Charlotte felt a bit offset by this but let herself take a step back. “Sure. I have to warn you she can be a bit much at times.”

 

Bobby chuckled. “I’m used to it. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

 

“Good luck.” Charlotte said. Walking up to her office and making her way over to the closed blinds. Creating a small gap in them and peering down at Bobby introducing himself to Becky in the ring.

 

From the distance she couldn’t really tell exactly what was happening. Trying to read the body language the best she could. Happily noting that Becky hadn’t already taken off. That was a good sign.

 

When Bobby began to laugh Charlotte couldn’t help but feel a bit shocked.

 

The two seemed to be getting along well enough.

 

They continued chatting for several more minutes before Bobby clapped the redhead on the shoulder and hopped out of the ring. Making his way to the stairs and up to Charlotte’s office.

 

Charlotte quickly managed to sit behind her desk and make it look like she was doing some work. Answering with a quick, “Come in.” When Bobby knocked on the door.

 

He popped his head inside. “Hey Charlotte.” Waiting for her to meet his eyes before continuing. “I’ll help for this fight. See how this works out and we can discuss it afterwards.”

 

“That sounds acceptable.” Charlotte declared. A weight off her chest at how easy that had seemed to work out. “Welcome aboard Bobby.”

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

Waiting for an airplane could be really boring, and Becky was really bored right now.

 

She was tired and had only had some carrots and other veggies today and still had weight that needed to come off. Alicia had been adamant that Becky follow her plan and with just four days to make weight there wasn’t much choice in the matter.

 

Kicking her feet up on the open seats next to her Becky pulled the hood over her head a little further down.

 

Normally she would try to make time for fans but she could tell that she was irritable and wanted to avoid a scenario where she could put herself in a potential negative scenario.

 

Becky groaned. Even her internal thoughts started to sound like Alexa’s voice on occasion.

 

She needed something to distract herself and against her better judgement and Alexa’s suggestion after the Mandy Rose interview she typed out a text to Bayley and sent it off before she could overthink it. _“Hey Bay.”_ She deserved to know in case that picture somehow got out before the interview was scheduled to air.

 

The buzzing of her phone was enough to shake Bayley awake.

 

“ _Huzzaph?!”_ or something like that was the first thing out of her mouth as she tried to regain her bearings. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper and neck was killing her her. The reason for the second state was made clear when she realized her cheek was resting on something hard. Further investigation revealed it was her kitchen table. She blinked then, trying to remember what had woken her and then her phone buzzed again.

 

Automatically she reached out toward the source of the noise only to wince at the sound of a loud clattering. Raising her head she saw a veritable forest of diet pepsi cans and an open, and nearly empty, bag of _sabor de soledad._ She’d obviously fallen asleep writing, again. This wasn’t uncommon but it did make for some rough mornings.

 

Finally managing to grasp her phone she grimaced at the cheese dust her her hand briefly. A short staring contest ensued before she shrugged and licked it off. At long last, she unlocked her screen and saw the text. A message from Becky. She smiled despite how dry her throat felt. She and Becky were fairly close but they didn’t talk enough.

 

“ _Hey! How are you chica?”_ she sent back, glad that Becky couldn’t see her. Something was gently tapping the side of her head as she moved and she wasn’t ready to accept the fact that it was probably a cheese snack in her hair.

 

Becky bit her lip as she thought of a response. She wanted to broach the subject gently. Bayley was one of the kindest people she had ever met and Becky knew that while she would never say it, having to defend herself because of her own actions must be getting annoying. _“Still alive. I had an interview with that Mandy Rose girl yesterday.”_

 

Even as groggy as she was Bayley sat up a bit straighter. Not only was the name ‘Mandy Rose’ kind of a trigger for her but she also knew Becky and how she texted. She blinked a few times before she sent back: “ _Did you catch a contact blonde?”_

 

Unable to stop a smirk from appearing Becky responded. _“Something like that.”_

 

 _“Actually, no...I can’t handle the idea of a blonde Becky. Please distract me from that image,”_ Bayley sent with a grin.

 

Becky had to physically shake away the image herself. _“Sounds like something Alexa would have me do, but that’s not why I texted you. I will start off by saying I’m sorry in advance.”_

 

Bayley blinked at this message once...and then again. If nothing else, Becky Lynch apologizing was as rare as a comet sighting. But there was also the message itself. It was with some trepidation that she asked, with forced levity: “ _For what? You didn’t beat up Lacey Evans did you?”_

 

It would be easier to just come right out with it, but Becky found herself stalling. _“Nope. I could though if you want me to. I just didn’t want you to get blindsided when the interview comes out.”_

 

They’d danced around it enough, Bayley decided. “ _Blindsided by…?”_ she sent back, dreading the answer.

 

 _“Mandy somehow had a photo that I may have not reacted too well.”_ Becky admitted. Part of her almost wishing she and Bayley hadn’t became friends to spare her the scrutiny that had came her way. _“I don’t know how she got it, but she had a picture of us… Of me… Leaving your hotel room.”_

 

Bayley took a few moments to digest this. She’d always had a minor concern on the back of her head that something like this could happen as a result of her time with Becky, but that was different than confronting it now. A thousand things flashed through her head as she stared down at the message. There was panic, there was gratitude, and much harder to define things.

 

“ _...What is she going to do with it?”_ was all she finally sent back.

 

The short impersonal response felt odd from the reporter but Becky figured that Bayley must be getting tired of her by now. _“Based on the way she handled it, I would say try to stir up more shit for you and me. Alexa is trying to get Mandy to release the interview after the fight, but that’s no guarantee.”_ Hoping that Bayley wouldn’t notice or press for details. The interview itself would be answer enough when it came out.

 

Bayley hesitated over her response. She knew that nothing that had happened was Becky’s fault of course. But that didn’t stop her from being frustrated. She was actually on the point of sending a sharp reply when she realized two things.

 

First, she realized that anything she could say or do would be as nothing to how Becky was feeling now. The Irish woman would beat herself up plenty without Bayley’s help. Second, and perhaps more importantly, she realized it was the kind of thing that Sasha would do.

 

“ _Hey, don’t worry about it Becks. We’ll get through it eventually. I’m just sorry that, if we ARE somehow a couple, I’m such an absentee SO,”_ she hoped a small joke would put Becky at ease.

 

Becky found herself smiling despite herself. Bayley always seemed to be able to put her quickly at ease. At times it almost seemed like she knew what Becky was thinking. Like she had been through all this before and knew the better paths, or at least which ones to avoid.

 

She was just about to type out a response when Charlotte walked by and Becky couldn’t help but watch her pass. The blonde not even offering a word after how harsh she had been last night. Her words still biting deep into Becky’s core as much as she tried to ignore it.

 

Bayley didn’t make Becky feel like she was about to snap. She had never lashed out in anger, however misplaced it may be. Whenever they talked Becky felt lighter. Less like the woman she hates and more like the one she wishes she could be.

 

Becky couldn’t deny the loneliness that had been such a large part of her life in the last year and realized that she didn’t want that anymore. _“Well I’ll see you during fight week I’m sure. Maybe you could make it up to me after I show Finn he was an idiot to let me go.”_

 

 _“Make it up to you? Uh, what do I owe YOU for?”_ Bayley sent back, making sure to send the correct emoji’s along with the message to convey her sarcasm.

 

Text can be a funny thing. All sort of subtext can be lost when you take away everything but the words. Becky knew that Bayley was playing along but she couldn’t help a small part of herself from speaking up. It’s voice only growing as people continued to insinuate she and Bayley were in a relationship. Would it really be that bad? They got along and Becky’s couldn’t lie; the reporter was extremely attractive try as she might to downplay it.

 

_“I will have to think on it. Not everyday that I’ve got a cute girl on the hook. Have to weigh my options.”_

 

Bayley rolled her eyes in a way she did often when interacting with Becky. “ _Don’t you have groupies for this sort of thing?”_ she asked, again making sure to communicate her sarcasm with emojis.

 

The last week had been an exhausting ordeal that was only the beginning, but even just texting Bayley helped quickly pull her back to a more even keel. _“Those girls are a McDonalds. I prefer eating at a fancy place.”_

 

“ _You know I wish I could say that was the least flattering analogy that’s ever been applied to me….but I can’t,”_ Bayley sent back. She found it privately amusing that Becky was trying to flirt with her while she looked like an absolute wreck.

 

Becky chuckled as the boarding announcement for her flight began. _“I can come up with a worse one if you’d like.”_ She texted. Waiting about five seconds before she quickly sent another. _“I’m not bothering you. Am I?”_

 

Maybe it was the nerves or how tired she was but Becky was worried that she was taking up far too much of the woman’s time. Bayley had a life and Becky wasn’t really in it. At least that would be totally true if Becky didn’t keep blowing up when Bayley’s name was brought up in interviews.

 

She couldn’t help but wonder if she had just been calmer and dealt with the GMA incident better; would this even be an issue at all?

 

Bayley took a look around at the warzone on her table and shuddered. “ _Honestly? You don’t want to know what I was just doing. Where are you?”_ she asked.

 

 _“Airport. Bout to board.”_ Becky quickly texted back. Gathering her bag as they began to call for her section to get in line.

 

“ _Have a good flight! I’ll see you soon!”_ Bayley sent back as she stared at her mess. Without thinking about it she added a heart and kiss emoji to the end.

 

Becky had just reached the front of the line when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She ignored it for the moment as she juggled her ticket and carry on.

 

When she sat down and settled in Becky pulled out her phone and looked at the latest text from Bayley.

 

The text was nothing special, just normal polite Bayley speech, but she had never used those specific emjoi’s before. Becky quickly ran through the possibilities in her head; starting off with assuming it to be an honest mistake, to the final option that Bayley had sent it on purpose.

 

But for what reason? Did she mean them?

 

Becky had always avoided texting for this reason. At least when you spoke with someone over a phone you could hear their tone.

 

She didn’t realize how long she had been staring down at her phone with a look of concentration.

 

Did she want Bayley to have meant it?

 

The announcement over the speakers startled her from her thoughts. Informing her that phones should be switched to airplane mode for the flight duration.

 

Out of desperation Becky sent a quick text so that Bayley wouldn’t worry. _“See you.”_ Thumb hovering over the send button before it diverted its direction and added a heart to the end of her own.

 

With the message sent Becky switched her phone to airplane mode and leaned her head against the window. Her eyes quickly closing as her exhaustion took over.

 

Unfortunately sleep would elude her for some time.

 

Her mind working overtime to try and decipher just what Bayley’s text and her response meant.

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

Charlotte idly spun the already empty beer glass that she had immediately ordered upon sitting down.

 

She had arrived early. Well before Bayley was scheduled to be there. Wanting to get in a quick drink to hopefully put her in a better mood before they were to meet.

 

Going to fight cards had always been a major stressor for Charlotte, but add in the extra media attention because of the personal slant to the Becky and Nikki fight and this one had been another level of frustration.

 

Starting from the fight being taken on short notice, and just steadily getting worse from there. A disastrous Mandy Rose interview, Ric collapsing and Charlotte reacting in the worst possible way to it. If there was a succinct way to boil down the last couple weeks it would probably just be one big middle finger after another.

 

She called the bartender’s attention to her empty glass and he swiftly placed a new one in front of her while taking away the empty one.

 

Charlotte ignored him as he lingered around. No doubt trying to either make a move and get lucky or just trying to make his tip a little bigger.

 

He seemed to finally get the message after her stony silence and walked down to the other end of the bar. Leaving Charlotte to take a sip of her fresh beer in peace.

 

She continued to sip away at her beer while she stared at the row of television screens behind the bar. Watching but not really taking in anything. Her mind preoccupied with a million other worries.

 

Bayley wasn’t sure why she was so nervous, she was just meeting someone for drinks. But she supposed that given how she and Charlotte had left things this might have been inevitable. One mostly friendly phone call couldn’t erase the past. Still, now that she saw herself in one of the large mirrors in the hotel lobby she felt kind of silly.

 

She’d felt the need to dress up for Charlotte. But one look into the hotel bar told her she’d overdone it...a lot. She thought about running back out to her car to get her coat but decided that it wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, maybe Charlotte would like the look? And besides THAT, it wasn’t as though they were on a date. Unbidden, memories of their drunken kiss rose in her head as she ducked into the bar.

 

She was scanning the interior when a male voice spoke up behind her. “Well, hello there beautiful,” it said. Bayley found herself facing a man who was probably near sixty. He was REALLY attached to his tanner cream and his thinning brown hair was slicked back.

 

“Hi?” she asked, uncertainly.

 

“So...you free to party?” he asked in an oddly high voice.

 

“Umm...what?” Bayley asked, wrong-footed.

 

“Hey, you don’t gotta play coy with me. I’m no cop here, this is my card. If you’re interested I’m also giving you my hotel room number. I tip well,” he said with a leering wink before sauntering off. Bayley was so stunned that she couldn’t even think of a retort. Looking down at the card she just had time to read ‘Jerry Lawler’ before she shook her head and walked over to the bar. She’d seen a familiar head of blonde hair there.

 

Charlotte had taken a moment to look down at her phone. Sighing out loud as she realized Bayley would be here anytime now. It wasn’t that she wasn’t looking forward to seeing her. In fact she was hoping the reporter’s boundless enthusiasm would help pull her up from her dour mood. Taking another sip from her beer and noting it was already closer to being empty than full.

 

Doing her best to hurry, Bayley leaned on the bar next to Charlotte, who still hadn’t noticed her, and asked: “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

 

Charlotte cringed at the line. “Is that the best you could do?” Not feeling up to playing into the lighthearted words. She looked over at the brunette’s choice of clothing and raised an eyebrow. “Trying to make some extra money tonight?”

 

Bayley’s smile flickered for half a heartbeat before she sat on the stool and sighed saying: “Would you believe it’s the second time I’ve heard something to that effect in sixty seconds? It seems I’ve completely forgotten how to dress.”

 

“I’m seeing the proof. Were you dressing to impress someone tonight?” Charlotte asked brusquely, staring up at the television. “Becky’s not here.”

 

If Bayley had one skill it was letting little shots go. You just couldn’t spend time around people like Sasha Banks or Becky Lynch AND being hypersensitive. Even so this comment from Charlotte didn’t seem entirely jocular. But she ignored it and said: “Actually, I wasn’t sure how fancy this place would be. And we haven’t hung out in a long time so I wanted to look my best.”

 

“Of course you did.” Charlotte muttered under her breath. “How’s the world been treating you?” Trying to let go of her foul mood was not being helped by the brunette’s personality. Pulling out her phone and placing it on the bar face up.

 

“Pretty good…” Bayley said, starting to feel a bit awkward “...Had some job interviews with a few other teams who want to try something similar to what you did.” She forced her smile up a few notches as she said: “You set a trend!”

 

Charlotte’s face hardly changed at the normally infectious cheer Bayley was capable of. If it did change at all, it was downward into not quite a frown. “Good for you… I hope it all goes well.” Taking another drink and finishing off her beer. Flagging down the bartender once again and pointing at her empty glass impatiently. “One for her as well. She probably needs it.”

 

It was getting harder and harder to ignore Charlotte’s obviously bad mood, even for someone as determinedly cheerful as Bayley. Still, she accepted the drink with a nod and took a long pull off of it. Turning toward Charlotte again she asked: “So...how are things at the gym?”

 

Charlotte swallowed down her first response and tried to formulate one less biting. “It’s been stressful as always. Lot of moving parts for this fight.” Taking another drink while she thought about how much work it had been to convince Bobby to actually give this arrangement a shot. Even now he was still somewhat noncommittal about his future with the camp after this fight.

 

“Yeah, I can imagine…” Bayley said before she took another sip of her drink “...still, it must be helpful to have more extra hands around right?”

 

“You’d think so.” Charlotte didn’t plan on elaborating. In her inebriated and poor state she began to look at Bayley and see a reporter rather than a confidant. “Things don’t always happen the way you want them too though. Life isn’t fair like that.”

 

Bayley liked to think that she was a people person, that she could talk to anyone. But she had to admit that it was feeling more and more like a slog with Charlotte. Something was obviously bothering the other woman but she sensed that any question in that regard would draw a stinging rebuke. Unable to come up with anything else she sipped her drink again and said: “No...no it rarely is.”

 

The silence was welcome to Charlotte, but she knew the longer it went on the more likely Bayley would be to ask her another question. “Can I ask you something?” Not waiting for a response before speaking again. “How’d you get Becky to be such a suck up to you? I mean it’s pretty impressive really. She only listens to me when she feels like it. But you…” She pointed the top of her glass at the brunette like she was accusing her of something. Maybe she was. “She actually goes out her way to listen to.”

 

The formulation of this question didn’t strike Bayley as particularly fair. But, she still thought she might salvage the evening if she let Charlotte get whatever was bothering her, off of her chest. Swirling the beer around in her glass she forced a smile and said: “I have an unfair advantage over you, I’m not her boss.”

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed as she drank. “I think I might have a better shot if she didn’t already have you in her ear.” Tapping her nails on the wooden bar as her frustration at everything began to boil over. “You might not be her boss, but she certainly acts like it.”

 

Even Bayley couldn’t pretend to misinterpret a comment like this. “Well…” she said in the voice she mostly used to address angry fighters “...we don’t talk that often Charlotte. Also, I know she’s difficult but she does care about you.”

 

“Like Sasha cared about you?”

 

These words hit Bayley like a slap. It wasn’t that Charlotte had spoken any louder, in fact she was almost whispering. But it was the pure ice behind that them that stunned Bayley. This wasn’t Charlotte snapping something in the spur of the moment that she’d regret in a second. These were words that she’d chosen, deliberately. Bayley felt her hand squeezing the edge of the the bar as she closed her eyes for a few seconds.

 

“That, was low,” she finally said.

 

“Just being honest.” Charlotte summarized. “At least I haven’t made the mistake of being a pathetic cling on that keeps thinking she can change the bad girl till she finally has enough.” Sipping casually from her beer as if she wasn’t being an ass and taking out her anger where it didn’t belong. Another wonderful lesson she picked up from Ric, rather than him being a good father and teaching her something normal like how to ski.

 

“No…” Bayley said, speaking far more coolly that was normal for her “...you’re just the woman who is drunk in a bar being an ass to her friend” As these words left her mouth Bayley knew that the alcohol wasn’t helping in this case. But, uncharacteristically, she didn’t care. Charlotte’s words had not only cut deeply themselves, but it was the knowledge that Charlotte had used intimate knowledge that Bayley had shared in confidence to hurt her.  That cut the deepest of all.

 

Charlotte took a deep breath, but the anger just wouldn’t go away. “Real cute.” Any rational thought completely out the window at this point. “Thought you would have learned the lesson with Sasha, but I guess it was too perfect an opportunity to pass up. Not many people can say they fucked the current and previous champ.”

 

Bayley was squeezing the bar so hard now that her hand was shaking. Her first impulse was to snap right back at Charlotte but she had enough sense at her command still to know what that would lead to. Instead, she finished her drink, and turned to face Charlotte before asking: “Was there something I did to offend you Charlotte? Because I came here excited to see a friend but you’re acting like I’ve done something horrible. If you have something to say….SAY IT.”

 

Bayley could probably count on both hands the number of times she’d spoken with that much force over the last few years. But Charlotte, and the alcohol, had done something that so rarely happened. They’d awoken Bayley’s temper.

 

For a moment Charlotte just sat still and stared back at the woman next to her. If she wasn’t so far gone she might have realized that a hotel bar was not the best place to be making a scene. “Sasha was right… You do look like a muppet when you’re mad.” Muttering lowly as she set her glass down and stood up so that she could use height to her advantage. “I didn’t ask you to come to Boston and fuck with MY fighter!”

 

Bayley’s nostrils flared as she hissed: “Not that it’s any of your business but I have never slept with Becky and I wouldn’t! She’s my friend! _Jesucristo!_ Why does everyone have such a hard time accepting that?! Becky is my friend, just like I thought you were. I’m sorry to see that I was wrong” She said tersely as she tossed some money onto the bar.

 

“Excuse me if I have a hard time believing that.” Charlotte hissed back. The jealousy that she had been continually holding in finally finding an out, even if it was irrational. She had seen how Bayley had interacted with Becky, and while the redhead was always flirtatious Bayley had always just laughed it off. That didn’t matter to her right now. Cherry picking the moments that supported her and ignoring the rest. “History tends to repeat itself and you obviously have a thing for fighters. Is that why you got into the business? Cause it sure seems like it to me.”

 

Part of Bayley wanted to slap Charlotte, or throw a drink in her face. Her hand twitched for a moment. Instead, she just glared at the woman who had once been her friend for what felt like a very long time, Charlotte never once blinking as she glared right back.

 

“Good night, night Charlotte,” Bayley said finally as she spun on her heel started to leave. She made it a few feet before she turned her head to one side and added: “ _A pesar de lo que has dicho esta noche, te extrañaré Charlotte. Espero que encuentres algo de felicidad”_

 

Charlotte frowned at the words. Unable to let the other woman have the last word in her current state. “Hope you find your own bed tonight. By the way; _Gracias por el regalo._ I needed a new coaster for my desk anyway.”

 

Bayley stopped for a moment, but didn’t turn back. She just walked out of the bar with her head down. She refused to let her tears drop until she was in her car.

 

Back in the bar Charlotte turned back to the bar with a grin on her face that quickly fell. Her ‘victory’ short lived as she realized she was alone. Wasn’t that what she wanted though?

 

Rather than thinking more Charlotte drained the remainder of her beer and called the barkeep down for another.

 

Let future Charlotte deal with the fallout. For now she simply wanted to not think for one night.

 

Maybe she would return the bartender’s earlier interest. He wasn’t exactly her type, but he seemed to be in good shape and wasn’t horrible to look at.

 

Most importantly though he wouldn’t remind her of either woman she was trying to ignore thinking of.

 

**Becky**

 

It felt odd being out in the middle of an arena and watching her old team jog down to the cage with Nikki Cross in the lead.

 

Finn and Dave Finlay flanking her as they both focused on their new star pupil. Ready for the main event of a rare Friday night fight card that preceded another one tomorrow. Headlined by Sasha Banks versus Natalya Neidhart.

 

She tried to keep her head in the moment but she just couldn’t.

 

Becky had crossed paths with her former team a few times during the fight week and each time had been uncomfortable and awkward on her part.

 

Her former teammates had done their best to basically ignore her and Becky had been so devastated by Finn turning his back on her that she had simply followed suit. Pretending that it didn’t hurt.

 

She had been pretending a lot of things didn’t hurt recently.

 

Her weight cut had not been any fun and she had needed Bobby’s help to simply get onto the scale.

 

“Keep calm Becky. Stick to your strengths and try to feel her out for the first round.” Lashley’s calming influence came from behind her.

 

Even though she knew he was right, Becky still had a hard time putting his words into action.

 

She had expected this fight to test her, but it seemed like every everything was against her right now. Conspiring to distract her and put her off her game.

 

From seeing Bayley in the press row and her confused feelings about the reporter. To seeing Charlotte in the audience and being reminded about yet another woman she had conflicting feelings about, as well as the fact that her father was still in the hospital.

 

Charlotte had to told her to keep quiet on the matter. The only real words the blonde had spoken to her since the night Ric had collapsed.

 

She hadn’t noticed as she walked into the arena, but at one point when waiting for Nikki to enter the big screen at the top of the arena shifted and showed Sasha Banks sitting a few rows back with Zelina sitting at her side. Ring prominently on display for the spotlights to catch the large diamond on top.

 

Becky had quite a few significant distractions that she needed to avoid thinking about. Nikki was far too dangerous to fight with her mind somewhere else.

 

The ref called them both to the middle of the cage and went through his normal speech.

 

She held her glove out tentatively and Nikki gave her fist an odd look before smacking it and backing into her corner.

 

The fight began and Nikki came out of her corner like she was on fire. Chasing after Becky from the word go and throwing big shots that would easily end the fight should one of them land flush.

 

Becky continued to back up and dodge all the shots. Nikki was telegraphing her punches from a mile away.

 

When Becky felt her back come up against the cage she started to automatically circle to her right.

 

Nikki must have been waiting for that moment and grinned.

 

Becky realized too late that Nikki’s over aggression for the first half of the round had all been to get her in this position.

 

The Scottish fighter threw a massive leg kick directly at Becky’s right knee. Her foot landing with a thud that echoed through the arena, and making Becky’s surgically repaired knee fold in on itself awkwardly.

 

For a second Becky was back at the end of her fight with Sasha. The sudden stabbing pain in her knee reminding her of that moment and making her unconsciously spike with fear. Freezing her for just a moment.

 

But that moment was enough for Nikki to follow up her shot with a wicked right hook that landed on Becky’s chin and stunned her. The redhead falling down and automatically driving her right knee into the ground to try and break her fall. The point of her knee hitting the canvas and making her immediately regret it. Pain radiating from where Nikki had kicked her.

 

She was just able to pull herself together enough to grab a hold of Cross’ waist as she moved in and used it to drag the other woman to the ground out of desperation.

 

Even though she ended up on the bottom, Becky felt more comfortable in this position than standing right now. Her knee still throbbing from the solid shot, but starting to feel slightly better.

 

Becky was able to utilize her ground game to stifle most of Nikki’s shots from the top position.

 

When the round was down to its final ten seconds Nikki threw caution to the wind and started to throw wild elbows. Not worried about Becky catching her in a submission with so little time on the clock.

 

Becky had done a good job defending but one of Nikki’s elbow snuck through and the point caught her on the temple. The hard hit allowing Cross to sneak in two more hard elbows to the left side of Becky’s face that made a mouse form underneath her eye in a snap.

 

The bell rang and the ref pulled Nikki off of her. Becky rolling over onto her stomach and pushing herself back up to her feet in dismay. Her knee still singing with pain. Making Becky’s stomach lurch as her eyes seemed to glaze over while she walked to her corner. Limp noticeable to anyone watching no matter how much she tried to hide it.

 

When she got back to her corner she saw Lashley in front of her. Speaking to her, but she couldn’t hear a word he was saying until he reached out and placed his large hand on the back of her neck. Pulling Becky’s head forward till her forehead rested against his.

 

Bobby began to mime taking deep breaths and holding the air for a few seconds until Becky unconsciously began to mimic his movements. Her erratic breathing finally calming down as he eyes were able to focus on the man in front of her. “She got a good shot on your knee. But you’re still here. You need to trust that your knee will hold up. Can’t shutdown if she does it again.”

 

The large black man motioned for Ruby to put an enswell on the mouse beneath her left eye. The super cold piece of iron pressing into the swelling and taking Becky’s breath away for a second, until the numbness set in. Hopefully stopping the eye from swelling shut and leaving the redhead at a massive disadvantage.

 

“Keep your head up and make sure she doesn’t get you backed into a corner where your movement becomes predictable. Do you hear me? Nod if you understand Becky.” Bobby said with a serious face. The next round almost ready to start.

 

Becky gave him a nod, despite only remembering about half of his words. Her eyes accidentally on purpose finding distractions in the crowd.

 

Bayley and Charlotte’s barely concealed worry making her stomach churn.

 

As the next round started Becky knew she was fighting from behind and with this only being a three round fight she didn’t have much time to make up for clearly losing the first.

 

Things didn’t start off much better for her in the second round.

 

Becky tried to utilize some of her old tricks but each time was met with a stiff counter shot that had her realing.

 

It seemed like no matter what she did Nikki was ready for it. Attacking Becky’s body now that the redhead had started to favor defending her left eye and right leg. Leaving her midsection open to brutal kicks that seemed take all the wind out of her.

 

After a few minutes of having almost no success standing up Nikki grinned at her. The Scottish woman’s confidence rising with every shot she landed without repercussion.

 

Luckily for Becky her confidence would cause her to throw a few shots that Becky was able to dodge and put the other woman off balance. Finally landing a few shots of her own and making Nikki respect her striking at least a little bit.

 

With thirty seconds in the round Becky decided to try and make something happen for herself. Moving forward and putting pressure on Nikki. Working behind her jab to try and keep her distance.

 

As she moved forward Cross extended her arm and hand out to try and create an artificial barrier that would keep Becky away.

 

Becky moved in at the same time as Cross made the move and ended up with a finger poking her already injured left eye. Recoiling in pain and trying to blindly defend herself.

  
The referee unfortunately not in the correct position to see the illegal, but accidental eye poke, and allowing the action to continue. Nikki taking advantage of her good fortune and swarming the temporarily blinded fighter.

 

Easily landing shots to the midsection as Becky tried to cover up her head as best she could and survive till the end of the round.

 

A well placed liver shot made Becky crumble to the ground. Cross following and throwing as many punches as she could to try and end the match in this round. The ref asking Becky to keep defending herself otherwise he would have to stop the match.

 

Instinct had kicked in and Becky had managed to just make it to the end of the round. For the second time having to pull herself back up after clearly losing the previous round badly.

 

She slowly limped back to her corner. Wondering how on earth everything had gone so wrong. Taking the fight against such a good opponent on short notice not looking like the smartest choice right now.

 

Bobby brought out a stool and set it down for Becky to sit on. The redhead flopping down and looking up at the big screen above. Watching highlights of herself getting the shit kicked out of her.

 

“Hey! Look at me!” Bobby commanded. Bringing Becky’s attention back to him. “This hasn’t gone your way so far. They know your tendencies too well. I need you to show her something crazy. You’re down two rounds.” He simply stated. “You need a finish to win this. She’s a little tired from trying to finish you last round. Her arms are filled with lactic acid right now. If you can grab a hold of one early on she won’t be able to fight you off. Can you do that for me?”

 

Becky nodded mutely.

 

Bobby gave her a stern look. “You have one shot at this. If you miss Cross will play it safe the rest of the round. Make it happen.”

 

“I got you.” Becky responded. Well aware of what she needed to do, and hoping she could pull it off in her current state. Her midsection covered in red welts that would surely become massive bruises overnight. Left eye swollen to the point where she only had about twenty percent of her normal vision right now.

 

She stood up and the bell rang signalling the third and final round. Becky’s last chance to snatch victory from the jaws of certain defeat.

 

Rather than moving forward Becky decided to stand still. Nikki giving her a somewhat confused look before it turned into one of rage when Becky held out her hand and waved the Scottish woman forward.

 

Without much thought Nikki came barrelling forward. Back to throwing more looping wild punches like the first round just like Becky had hoped she would after the taunt.

 

She let herself get backed up into the cage again and began to circle to her right once again. Repeating the same mistake she had in the first round. Making Nikki zone in on her right knee once again. Putting everything into another massive leg kick that was clearly designed to stop the fight right then and there.

 

Becky did the opposite of what anyone would expect and let the kick hit her knee. Pain exploding from the joint as the Irish woman fought through and drove her right shoulder into Cross’ midsection. Driving her backwards and causing them both to roll in a pile of limbs.

 

In the scramble Becky managed to grab onto Nikki’s right arm and throw her legs across the Scot’s face. Catching her in an armbar and quickly thrusting her hips into the elbow joint. Hyperextending the limb and holding on for dear life as Nikki did everything she could to break her grip.

 

A desperate punch from Cross managing to catch her in the eye once again. Her eye finally swelling all the way shut as she wrenched on the arm even harder. Knowing that this was her only shot at finishing this match. Bobby was right. If Cross got out of this there was no way she would allow Becky close for the remainder of this round.

 

The thought made Becky grit through and applying a slight twist to the armbar. Cranking on the limb and making it move in ways the human body was not supposed too.

 

When the tap from Nikki finally came Becky couldn’t believe it and the ref had to pry her off after a second of her continuing to hold.

 

Becky rolled off the other woman and laid down on her back. One good eye staring up at the ceiling as she tried to grasp what had just happened.

 

It didn’t feel real when Bobby picked her up off the ground in a massive hug and gently placed her back down to earth. Carefully keeping his arm around her shoulders to help take weight off her gimpy leg.

 

It didn’t feel real when Ruby came in and gave her a massive kiss on the cheek. Grinning ear to ear and repeating, “You fucking did it!”

 

It only started feeling real when her hand was raised and she was being asked about the fight.

 

“I don’t know how I got her in the armbar, but once I had it there was no way in hell I was letting go.”

 

“Is there anything else you would want to say? After a gutsy performance like that, the floor is yours.”

 

Becky pondered it for a second her good eye searching the crowd before remembering what Mandy and others had been publicly saying about Bayley and not wanting to add more fuel to the fire. Dropping her head for a moment before beginning. “Well we are in California so excuse me if this is horrible. I’m still learning. _Desde el fondo de mi corazón, gracias. Gracias por todo.”_

 

Letting the crowd cheer her words for a moment before continuing. “Thanks for all the support. Nikki was a good opponent…” Pausing as her eyes met Charlotte’s in the crowd and her throat dried up. Rendering her momentarily speechless.

 

Silence filled the arena for several moments as Becky’s anger at Charlotte’s words rose back up. The unfairness of everything that had occured last month finally bubbling over.

 

Becky found her voice again. “You know what… Fuck it. Nikki might be good, but I’m better.” Finding her old swagger and letting out a little of the old Becky Lynch. “I took this fight on two weeks notice and she couldn’t put me away.”

 

The crowd roared at the words. Both in support and dislike of her sudden shift in attitude.

 

The frustration of the last couple years seemed to be coming out all at once. “Hey Finn!” She called into the mic. Waiting for her old friend to turn towards her from where he was comforting his defeated fighter. “Is this what you had in mind when you told me to deal with the consequences of my actions?” Sneering at her fellow Irishman and holding up a middle finger in his direction. “Fuck you. You made the biggest mistake of your life kicking me out.”

 

Abruptly the interview was cut short and Becky was led out of the ring by Bobby and Ruby at each side. The larger man placing a supportive hand on the redhead’s shoulder despite his misgivings about how she handled the interview.

 

He shook his head in disappointment, but conceded that if anyone deserved to say something like that, it probably was Becky.

 

Hopefully this was just her needing to vent.

 

Bobby had just been through one fighter’s meltdown. He couldn’t sit by and watch it happen again.

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha was looking at a TV without really seeing what was on the screen.

 

“ _...Chaotic scene at the CMA’s where rival artists Elias and Jesse James got into a fist fight on stage that ended with Elias having a guitar broken over his head. Now onto other celebrity news. Billionaire restaurateur Clex Aloha has has announced her divorce from husband John Morrison in a unique way.”_

 

The scene shifted them what was obviously cell phone video of the famous business woman lying on a beach chair flanked by brunettes.

 

“ _Hey John, I put your stuff out on the street along with coupon I found for a moving company! Byeeeeeee” Clex said before leaning back as the two brunettes leaned in._

 

The reporter took over again here.

 

“ _Now we go to TV hosts Edge and Christian for their comments, boys?” the scene shifted to a view of the two men sitting in their famous Toronto studio._

 

_“You know that isn’t the WORST way to find out you’re getting divorced I’ve ever heard of, but it’s up there,” Edge said mock seriously._

 

_“I feel like most of the ones that would be worse also involved violence though,” Christian chimed in._

 

_“Yeah, yep, so definitely the worst NON-violent way to get told you’re getting divorced,” Edge agreed._

 

_“But Clex certainly bounced back quick didn’t she? Those were grammy award winners Peyton Royce and Billie Kay!” Christian said._

 

Sasha never heard what Edge had to say because she threw turned the TV off and flung the remote at the wall where it cracked apart. She had trying to drown out Teddy, unsuccessfully, with the TV report. But her manager wasn’t going to be put off that easily.

 

“FUCK! Are you STILL talking about that?” Sasha demanded loudly.

 

“We’re going to talk about this now or later!” Teddy Long said irritably as he paced back and forth in front of Sasha.

 

“Nothing to talk about Teddy, it’s over,” Sasha said moodily.

 

“It’s NOT over playa! You’re facing a fine for that stunt! Maybe even a suspension!” Teddy said angrily.

 

The ‘stunt’ in question had involved the pre-fight press conference. Sasha had simply chosen NOT to go. Instead, she’d posted a video of Twitter of herself and Zelina sitting beside their pool. During the video, she’d made clear that anything other than a fight involving Neidhart was a total waste of her time.  She’d closed the video by kissing Zelina and hold a middle finger up to the camera.

 

“It was hilarious! Besides, Shane isn’t ever going to suspend me,” Sasha stated boldly. She had a very close relationship with the brawl for all commissioner, they partied together often.

 

“It was stupid and it’s going to cause even more of a mess!” Teddy insisted.

 

“Umm...Sasha?” a meek voice put in. It was Simon Dean, who was kneeling in front of her and working to tape her hands. “Did...did you want to talk strategy?” the man suggested timidly. As usual, every time he spoke Sasha wanted to punch his face in.

 

“Shut the fuck up, and tape my hands,” she told him harshly before turning back to Teddy. “After I take down Neidhart I’ll be right back on top and everything will go away,” she insisted.

 

“We better hope you’re right playa,” Teddy muttered as he walked to the door. Opening it and sticking his head out he a quick conversation with someone. A moment later he turned back to Sasha and said: “We’re ready playa.”

 

Sasha stood quickly, almost knocking Simon over. She held her hands out to him so he could put on her gloves as she made the transition. The same transition every fighter had to make just before a fight. She let go of the Sasha Banks that lived the rest of her life and brought out the monster. All fighters did this, but few had a name for this persona. She did, it was ‘the Boss’.

 

When she had her gloves on she pounded them together before taking her glasses and rings from Titius. Putting them on she stepped out of the locker room and turned to the small group f people standing there.

 

“Ready for boss time?” she asked a small Asian woman standing in front of the group.

 

“Very...ready!” Kairi Sane said in slow deliberate English.

 

“She carries the belt!” Sasha tossed over her shoulder. This was a delicious bit of revenge she’d taken on Charlotte Flair. She’d promised Ric Flair not to do anything else to disrupt the woman’s gym and she wouldn’t. She respected Ric too much to go back on her word. But he’d also said that business was business, and she’d taken great pleasure in talking Kairi Sane out of signing with the Flair camp and into joining Thuggin and Buggin. Now they’d announce the signing to the world when Sane walked out with her.

 

Sasha didn’t speak again as she walked along the hallway that would take her to the curtain. She was focusing on what she would do to Neidhart when she got in the cage. Historically, she would be talking with Bobby as she walked. He would be quizzing her about her opponent’s tendencies and her own gameplan.

 

Bobby, the man’s betrayal was still enough to make her vision cloud over with red. Just the day before Sasha had found out that the bastard wasn’t just not training her, but he was working with Becky god damn Lynch! The knowledge that Sasha had herself caused this was enough to stoke her anger to an even higher pitch. He hadn’t even waited before he’d run off to the enemy!

 

She’d show that bastard.

 

Coming to a stop behind the curtain that would lead out to the arena floor Sasha worked her head from side to side. She was the fucking Boss. She would put this bitch down and then she’d go on being the damned Boss. Everyone else was jealous, none of them mattered.

 

When her music began to play Sasha waited a few moments before she pushed through the curtain her hands up. She strutted to the middle of the walkway before she stopped. The roars of the crowd redoubled, they all knew what was going to happen. She let the tension build for a few moments before she hit her boss pose, and ended by waving away all her haters. With that she strutted the rest of the way to the cage.

 

When she got to the steps she turned and surveyed the capacity crowd. She was reassured by what she saw. All the shit going on in her life but the fans still loved the boss. They always would. She decided she give them something special then. Retreating down the stairs she walked over to where Kairi Sane was standing, obviously basking in the cheers.

 

Sasha took the belt from her and handed it off to Teddy. She then put an arm around Kairi’s waist and pulled her in before mussing her hair. The crowd loved it as Kairi giggled. On an impulse, Sasha kissed the top of her head before turning and heading back up the stairs. One quick top to accept her mouth guard before she stepped inside.

 

Neidhart was already there, waiting for her. The other woman looked focused and determined. She was clearly ready for a fight. Sasha found this amusing. Neidhart might have been a respected veteran who’d held a title before, but she was nothing to Sasha. She didn’t have any competition left in her division and she didn’t really expect to find any here.

 

She zoned out during the the introductions  and didn’t hear a word of the rules briefing. It wasn’t as though something new was going to happen in either one. It was only when Ron Simmons asked them to come to the center of the ring and touch gloves that she finally woke up. She and Neidhart arrived at the same time and glared at each other. Nonetheless, Neidhart held out a glove. Sasha looked down at it contemptuously and, instead of touching it with her own, stepped back and raised both middle fingers to Neidhart.  

 

The crowd roared at this as Neidhart’s eyes narrowed further. Sasha held the gesture before walking back to her corner and waiting for the bell. Simmons, looking a bit disgusted, nonetheless called for the bell and the fight began.

 

Unlike with Paige, Sasha knew she had to take Neidhart more seriously. She wouldn’t be as easy to toy with the rookie had been. Sasha began circling slowly to her right, hoping to get a good angle on Neidhart’s left. Of course, the other woman knew exactly what was happening so she matched the motion keeping the distance between them.

 

Sasha tried a few ranging jabs, mostly to test Neidhart’s reactions. The blonde simply backpedaled both times. Ditto for when Sasha through an experimental kick at her knee. In fact, she spent almost thirty seconds just avoiding Sasha. This annoyed Sasha but not significantly. Every step, every sway, every motion tiny was more data for her to work with.

 

As the first round ticked toward an uninspiring end, Sasha could hear the groaning from the crowd. The round had been entirely exploratory and that couldn’t make for great viewing. When she saw that she had less than twenty seconds left Sasha decided to kick things up a notch.

 

Suddenly shooting forward, Sasha made as though to shoot for one of Neidhart’s legs. As expected, she tried to backpedal. But Sasha continued the motion forward. Neidhart threw a left hook that Sasha easily blocked. When she’d done this she found she was in optimal position, right up on her opponent. Sasha grinned like a Wolf.

 

Neidhart sensed her peril and tried to retreat, only to find that Sasha had maneuvered her perfectly. She was trapped against the cage with Sasha, one of the best strikers to ever grace the sport, standing next to her. She threw a clumsy kick in an effort to force Sasha back but Sasha just ignored the impact. This was her moment.

 

She opened the tap.

 

When the bell finally rang for the end of the round Sasha had pounded Neidhart down to her knees. Had she had some more time she would have probably put the other woman away. As it was, she flounced back to her corner with the air of a queen in her throne room. She was perfectly content. She’d established one fact above all others in that round, a fact that made the final result more or less inevitable. Neidhart was scared.

 

Oh, she’d talked a big game about Sasha. She had a good record and reputation in the sport. But Sasha had seen it in her eyes and her moves. Neidhart was intimidated and Sasha knew it. This was good as blood in the water to someone like the Boss. It was so good that she felt as though she might indulge herself a bit.

 

When the bell for the second round began, Sasha was ready. She came right after Neidhart, accepting a few punches as a simple price paid she got in close. When Neidhart realized what she was doing her eyes widened. But it was far too late.

 

The maelstrom of fists, palms, forearms, elbows, knees, shins, and feet that followed was painful to watch for some observers. Neidhart did her best to cover up and to try and protect herself but it was like trying to keep the rain off of you by holding a business card over your head.

 

But Sasha was very careful with how she handled this. She punished Neidhart, severely, but she didn’t let the other woman go down. She kept her upright, even backed off when she sensed she might be pushing too far. She wanted to play with her food, and that meant not killing it right away.

 

Despite her care, she ended up with Neidhart down to her knees before the second round ended. Sasha ignored this and simply walked back to her corner and waiting for the last two seconds of the round to run out. She then made a show of lacing her fingers behind her head and leaning back against the cage. As though she didn’t have a care in the world.

 

She happened to be scanning the crowd when she saw them.

 

First, she noticed Bobby Lashley. The arch traitor, sitting in the fourth row talking with someone who had to be Charlotte Flair. Sasha’s eyes narrowed as she saw this. But then her eyes strayed slightly to an all too familiar sight. At one of the media tables, she saw a side ponytail, a brunette one. There was only one person in the world of MMA who wore one of those.

 

Feeling her stomach tighter Sasha turned back the ring. This fight was proving to be much more like the fight with Paige than she’d thought. She’d been able to absolutely dominate her opponent from the start and now, in the third round, she was suddenly angry. Infuriated even, that was how her guilt over her treatment of both Bobby and Bayley translated to the boss.

 

Unlike with Paige, Sasha had no desire to finish the fight now. She couldn’t punish her former friends in the ring, so she’d use Neidhart. Throughout the ensuing round Sasha backed off on her striking and kept forcing Neidhart into painful holds. She’d been working hard on her ground game despite lacking a proper trainer. Now she wanted to show off, particularly for Bobby, how much she was thriving without him.

 

She finished the round by lifting Neidhart bodily off the mat and driving her shoulders first back down. She was in a perfect position to mount the other woman and to rain punishing punches down on her. But, again, she let her up. Just then the bell rang.

 

“Banks! Enough! End this or I will!” Simmons snapped at her as she walked back to her corner. Sasha waved him away and took her seat. As she did she glared over at Neidhart who was in bad shape. She had cut on her cheek and several nasty looking bruises already. Sasha studied her as Simmons made his way over to her corner, obviously asking if she wanted to continue. Neidhart shook her head emphatically and Simmons shrugged.

 

Good, Sasha thought, she wanted to finish this herself anyway. When the fourth round began Sasha almost sprinted at her opponent. Neidhart’s guard was drooping and she seemed to be moving at half speed. Sasha tagged her one, twice, and then a third time sending her reeling backward. Sasha gave her no respite however as she tore after her, hammering Neidhart’s midsection. When this finally dropped her guard Sasha drove an elbow hard into the other woman’s temple. This was the coup de grace.

 

Neidhart dropped heavily to her knees, obviously barely conscious. Her head was drooping heavily to one side and her eyes were glassy. Simmons ran to check on her and Sasha walked away intending to hit her signature pose.

 

That was when she happened to find Bobby in the crowd again. Their eyes met for several seconds. In those moments Lashley rolled his eyes, threw up his hands, and shook his head. He shouted something that Sasha couldn’t hear but the message was unmistakable. You’re a disappointment.

 

The rest of the world faded around her as Sasha saw red. She lost her mind as she grabbed the cage and began screaming at Lashley, none of her words intelligible around her mouth guard. After a few seconds of this Sasha turned back to the ring. Her wide eyes found Neidhart and It was then that madness took full hold of Sasha.

 

Storming over to her fallen opponent she shoved Simmons aside, ignoring his protest. He tried to grab her arm but she shrugged this off. For a split second, she was left with a clear path to Neidhart and she took it.

 

Building up as much speed as she could in three quick steps, Sasha drove her knee with as much force as she could directly into the other woman’s face.

 

**Charlotte**

 

With the extra long weekend of fight being over Charlotte was ready to take settle into her bed and get in a good night of sleep before the flight back to Boston in the morning.

 

Unfortunately the world didn’t seem to want that for her and her phone lit up with a number she didn’t recognize.

 

Charlotte picked it up just in case it was something important. “Hello.”

 

 _“Is this Charlotte Flair?_ ”

 

“Yes it is. What can I do for you?” She politely answered.

 

_“Ms. Flair… I’m sorry to inform you that your father is dead.”_

There was more information but Charlotte had stopped listening after the first sentence. Her phone slipping from her suddenly weak fingers and dropping to the duvet.

 

Charlotte’s world crumbling down around her as she stared at the wall in shock.

 

Her whispered words haunting the room. “I never got to say goodbye…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... A lot happened. Some of it we're sorry about, but most of it we aren't. Next chapter is shaping to be a doozy. 
> 
> How will Ric's death affect each of our 4HW? Will they all be attend the funeral and be in the same place? AT THE SAME TIME? Can you say drama.
> 
> I mean... you probably can. But whatever. Main point is next chapter will have a lot of craziness. We've been building to this chapter for a while now and have some ideas that we have both been itching to write for more than a month. 
> 
> BTW If you enjoy AU's in the WWE universe or even if you don't please give my co-writers new work "Four Pegasi" a look. It's 'Top Gun' meets WWE meets something else I can't think of right now, but its all great. 
> 
> Find it here ----------> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494928/chapters/41206769
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Look forward to hearing from you in the comments no matter what you have to say.


	10. Chapter 10: Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Four Horsewomen converge on Boston to bid farewell to a legend. But what else will come to an end?

**Bayley**

 

“Alright welcome back we’re here on the cast with the one and only Bayley Martinez from MMAyley.com. Bayley, thanks for coming on the show,” Mojo Rawley said from the across the table in his studio.

 

“Hey, Mo,” Bayley said. Mo’s energy was usually pretty infectious. Bayley wasn’t immune today but she was still subdued. She’d heard the news about Ric Flair just the morning after the fight and her heart had absolutely broken for Charlotte.

 

Though at times it seemed as though the blonde was trying to make Bayley hate her, it hadn’t quite worked. Bayley had been volcanically angry when she’d left the hotel bar after she’d last seen Charlotte. The other woman had been cruel that evening, there was no other word for it. Bayley had been quite ready to simply never speak to Charlotte again.

 

But then she’d heard the news.

 

Puzzle pieces had begun to clunk into place in Bayley’s mind. The strange conversation that she’d had with Ric shortly before she’d left Boston. She remembered thinking it was odd that he’d wanted to have the conversation in Spanish but even more that it had felt like he’d just said good-bye.

 

Then there was the fact that both Charlotte and Becky had told her repeatedly how busy Charlotte had been away from the business of Becky’s fighting. At first, Bayley had been inclined to think that this had been Charlotte dealing with whatever her financial arrangement with Bob Orton had been. Bayley had never followed up on the lead but she’d wondered if it was something bigger than she’d realized.

 

And then there was Charlotte’s inexplicably hurtful behavior at the bar. She’d been a bitch and a half for sure, but in hindsight, it would make sense if she’d been dealing with the twin stresses of work and a terminal father. It didn’t excuse her behavior, but it put it in a context that Bayley could understand.

 

Forgiveness? That would have to wait until she had more time on her hands.

 

She’d agreed to be on Mo’s podcast before the fights and she didn’t want to cancel on him two times in a row. So today might involve a certain amount of ‘fake it till you make it’ psychology. At least, she thought, the news cycle had been bountiful for them.

 

“So let’s jump right back in here…” Mo said, “...we’re gonna play some of the audio from Shane McMahon’s press conference earlier today and then get a reaction from you OK?”

 

“Sound’s good,” Bayley said. Mo hit a button and a few moments later the audio began to play.  

 

“ _We here at Brawl for All demand a certain professional standard from all our personnel, whether they be fighters or support staff. Through her conduct after her match Natalya Neidhart, Sasha Banks has demonstrated that she obviously does not meet this standard. I have been in touch with the Bank’s camp today and I informed them that Sasha Banks will be suspended for half a year from all Brawl For All activities. It is our hope that Ms. Banks takes this time to reflect on how she can be a better ambassador for our sport.”_

 

Mo ended the audio and jumped in here: “So, that’s the money quote. Bayley, you were close with Sasha Banks once what’s your reaction here? We’ve had a lot of people coming out of the woodwork talking about how this is really nothing more than a slap on the wrist for Banks seeing as to how she’d probably have about six month’s downtime before she could even consider taking another fight anyway”

 

Bayley took a moment to gather herself before she said: “Mo, I think that a lot of people are overthinking this issue. BFA isn’t acting any different here than any other league here. Remember how many games Ray Rice got initially? ONE. And that’s all he would have got if there hadn’t been an enormous outcry about it. Professional sports do NOT care about good conduct. They care about making money. This isn’t unique to our sport either. I just think anyone who was expecting BFA to swoop in and do the right thing was setting themselves up to be disappointed.”

 

“I get that, but let me ask then. What do you think about what Bank’s actually did, and what do you think would be an appropriate punishment?” Mo asked.

 

Bayley ignored the answers that sprung to her lips right away and instead said: “Well I don’t think there is an appropriate reaction to it other than disgust. I was disgusted and shocked that a woman I thought I knew once did that. As for a reasonable punishment? I’d have stripped her title on the spot and given her a year-long ban at minimum.”

 

“Wow! Martinez coming in hot! Obviously, they aren’t calling you for advice though huh?” Mo asked with a grin that Bayley did her best to return.

 

“No, I wish. But I think we all know WHY BFA did this too right?”

 

“Tell us.”

 

“Well, we saw Becky Lynch score what was probably her biggest symbolic victory ever over Nikki Cross. Far more than with the Torres fight, this was Lynch announcing herself to the division and saying ‘the line forms behind me for a title shot’. This suspension will end just in time for the fight I think we’d all hoped for but thought we’d never see: Banks v Lynch part two.”

 

“Ohhhh you’re so right! After Lynch had all her problems I never thought I’d see it. But in just months this could be happening!” Mo said excitedly.

 

“I’m not reporting anything I’m just reading the writing on the wall...the enormous glowing writing on the wall,” Bayley said with a ghost of her usual smile.

 

“We’ll have to wait and see! But I’d give you great odds that you’re onto something Martinez,” Mo told her jokingly.

 

“How great? I might take and just hope I’m wrong,” Bayley laughed.

 

“We’ll talk about it off air…” Mo chuckled “...Since I have you hear Bayley I gotta ask THOSE questions now.”

 

“Really Mo? Aren’t you sick of hearing the same answers I always give?”

 

“I know, I know, BUT the new video and everything I wanted to give you a chance to respond to the...ah...less than ideal Lynch interview with Mandy Rose,” Mo told her.

 

“And give me a chance to respond for the first time on YOUR podcast huh?” Bayley asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“It’s a win-win!” Mo said eagerly.

 

Bayley sighed, but good-naturedly. She knew how the game was played. Mo wouldn’t have been doing his job if he hadn’t asked this question. It would also be disingenuous for her to pretend like she hadn’t anticipated it.

 

“I’ll give you a money quote right here OK Mo?” Bayley said.

 

“Yes please!”

 

“In reference to the video that Mandy released, I will first say, to whoever shot it, that’s just weird. Who hangs around hotel hallways? But now, the important part. I, Bayley Martinez, was not at the time of the video and have not ever been romantically involved with Becky Lynch. I was there covering her as part of an arrangement with Charlotte Flair. Over that time I reported as accurately and objectively as possible. I believe that is evident in my work. While I was there I spent a great deal of time in close contact with Becky Lynch, a friendship did develop. I would defy anyone to be in my position and NOT have that happen. But this relationship was always platonic…did I miss anything Mo?” Bayley asked as she finished.

 

“Nope, that was very thorough,”

 

Bayley sighed again and said: “But we both know I’m going to get questions about it for years still.”

 

“You bet.”

 

“Hooray…” Bayley said resignedly. Their, interview continued for about ten more minutes before Mo began to wind it down.

 

“I hate to end on a sad note but I really want you take on this one Bayley,” he said, sounding as somber as Bayley had ever heard him.

 

“I think I know what’s coming here,” Bayley said, forcing a weak smile.

 

“We lost a legend recently. Boxing great Ric Flair, whose gym you spent time at, passed away in a Boston hospital. I know you’re a boxing fan as well as MMA and that you’re also close to his daughter Charlotte Flair. Could you give us a reaction Bayley?” Mo asked sincerely.

 

Bayley swallowed. Mo would obviously have no way of knowing that Bayley and Charlotte had had a falling out recently. Nevertheless, Bayley wasn’t so sure she was close with Charlotte. But she did her best to answer: “Obviously it’s always a tragedy when anyone dies, but I really feel like we lost a good one here. I remember growing up and watching some of Ric Flair’s fights with my dad. And when I was out there I got to know him a little bit, and I always liked him. Obviously, he doesn’t have the most squeaky clean of legacies but I think the world is gonna miss him.”

 

Here she hesitated as she tried to think of the best way to express her next thought. She knew it was unlikely to matter but there was a small chance it could get back to the intended recipient. So she had to do handle it perfectly.

 

“And…” she added slowly “...I’d just like to say to Charlotte Flair that...whatever else is going on you have my deepest sympathies and I’m thinking of you.”

 

**Sasha**

 

Zelina Vega shrieked in impudent frustration as Sasha pushed past  her into their shared closet. The room was as large as some one bedroom apartments but Sasha was still feeling crowded by the other woman.

 

“You are SO SELFISH!” Zelina screamed as she actually stomped her foot in rage.

 

“Oh yeah...I’M the selfish one!” Sasha shot back as she grabbed one of her suitcases and tossed it onto onto one of the room’s benches.

 

“I WANTED that award! It was MY award!” Zelina snapped. Shew as referring to an LGBTQ Athlete of the Year award that Sasha had been set to receive until recently. When the combined news of Sasha’s lawsuit, her failed drug test, AND the news she would be suspended for 6 months due to her actions at the end of her fight against Natalya Neidhart had hit many things had started to go wrong. Losing the award was among the least of her concerns.

 

She’d lost almost half her major sponsors and several more were wavering. This amounted to a LOT of annual money that she would longer be getting. This was in addition to the likelihood that she would have to cut an enormous check to those idiots in Right to Censor as part of a settlement. The loser purse of her fight with Neidhart suddenly wasn’t looking like much of a consolation prize.

 

“Yeah ‘your’ award huh? Remind me how I’m the selfish one again? Gee I fucking wonder why they didn’t offer the award to you?” Sasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

“Oh, you’re such a fucking role model yourself! Don’t act like you care about the community!” Zelina spat.

 

“I don’t!...” Sasha shot back “...But I don’t PRETEND to either! I wasn’t planning to use the award as a way to boost my brand!”

 

“You are unbelievable! And now we have to go to BOSTON again? Ugh! You know how much I hate it there! It’s such a dump and it’s just BORING!” Zelina said as she sat on another bench with her arms folded. Looking exactly like a child throwing a fit.

 

“I didn’t ask you to come with,” Sasha muttered as she finally found the black dress she was looking for and tossed it carelessly into her bag.

 

“Oh my god! Are you serious? We’re going to be fucking married you dumb bitch!” Zelina shouted.

 

“FINE!” Sasha roared as she slapped the wall in frustration before spinning to face an obviously startled Zelina. “If you want to come with then just leave the fucking cameras and we’ll go!” she raged at Zeilina.

 

“The show is SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT US! THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO FOLLOW US!” Zelina shrieked, firing right back up at Sasha’s response. “What does it even matter? It’s just some random old white guy’s funeral-” Zelina started to say but Sasha’s eyes flared and she cut Zelina off with a raised finger.

 

“RIC FLAIR WAS A LEGEND AND GREAT MAN! You keep his name out your mouth unless it’s with the proper respect! And I am NOT going to ruin his funeral with your goddamn camera’s everywhere!” Sasha snarled through gritted teeth. Rather than keep looking at the woman who was enraging her she spun around and began grabbing other items for her trip.

 

She knew Zelina was only silent because she was trying to think of something venomous to spit at her but she didn’t care. As soon as she’d heard about Ric Flair’s death she’d known she was going back to Boston for the funeral. Nevermind the fact that she’d likely run into all sorts of people who didn’t like her there. Ric had believed in Sasha before anyone else, even if she hadn’t ended up training with him. She owed him big for all the favors he’d done her over the years.

 

Despite this, she was still worried.

 

She had basically forbidden Zelina to come with because she hadn’t wanted to ruin the funeral by turning it into a circus. But what if she ran into Charlotte Flair? Or Becky Lynch? What if she ended up making a scene even with her good intentions. Sasha was honest enough to admit that she didn’t have enough control over her temper to guarantee she’d stay cool if confronted directly. Then something even more disturbing occurred

 

What if Bayley was there?

 

And what if she ran into the other woman?

 

No matter how Sasha had tried in the months since their parting she hadn’t been able to fully harden her heart against Bayley. She’d tried, oh how she’d tried, to find a way to paint herself as the victim in their quarrel but she just couldn’t. She wasn’t sure which possibility she dreaded more: that Bayley might be angry with her or if she’d completely moved on.

 

Forcing this aside Sasha through a few last items into her bag before zipping it and carrying it toward the door. She had more stuff to grab but she couldn’t stand being in the tense resentment of the closet any longer. As she passed by Zelina the other woman finally spoke.

 

“I hate you,” she said in a quiet voice but one full of sincere venom.

 

The thing was, and Sasha was realizing this more and more, there were two people in the closet who felt that way. But maybe one of them was getting sick of it.

 

Sasha paused and turned to regard Zelina, her ‘fiance’.  “I don’t care,” she said.

 

**Charlotte**

 

Charlotte took a deep breath of fresh air as she stepped outside of the Bearer Funeral Home. Her lungs filling with air that didn’t seem tainted.

 

She couldn’t help herself from shaking a bit as she walked towards her car and hopped inside. Finally allowing her mask to drop for just a moment in the privacy of her own car.

 

The amount of work that needed to be done for Ric’s funeral was overwhelming. Not just because of the obvious emotional reason, but logistics for the event made it difficult to deal with.

 

Ric had obviously touched a lot of people in his life and the number of people that wanted to attend only continued to grow.

 

Charlotte let her forehead drop to make contact with the steering wheel. The cool leather against her skin making the blonde start back into action and start the car.

 

As the engine of her 2015 silver Lexus roared to life Charlotte found none of the normal happiness she felt when driving it.

 

For most of her life Charlotte had accepted Ric’s absentee father gifts. Usually in the form of something big and flashy, which meant that over the years Ric had bought her three cars. Each one its own physical reminder of her father’s guilt.

 

As an adult she had finally had enough and put in her own money to buy her own car for once. It didn’t matter what car it was, the fact that Ric hadn’t bought it felt like a statement. A statement that Charlotte was finally taking control of her life and becoming something more than just Ric Flair’s daughter.

 

Strangely enough, Charlotte missed those old cars. He may have bought them out of his own guilt but Ric had bought them for her. It had been a sign that he cared even if he wasn’t great about showing it outside of lavish gifts.

 

When she arrived at her next location Charlotte found herself wondering how she had even got there. Her mind running on autopilot as she drove and making the turns without and real input on her behalf.

 

As she strolled into the building, Charlotte tried to keep her head high. Walking as if she owned the place and was completely in her element.

 

The narrow corridor stretched out in front of her. Lined on both sides with large door and placards to show what lay behind each one.

 

Each step down the hall seemed to echo in Charlotte’s ears like drums from the deep beneath the soles of her feet. Warning her of impending doom. Unable to stop it, but maybe enough to prepare herself for it.

 

When she finally reached the door that heralded her doom Charlotte hesitated. Shifting her weight back and forth between feet.

 

She could always just leave. No one would really know or care besides her. After all she was the one who made the appointment.

 

After a minute of debating one of the other doors in the hall began to creak open and Charlotte’s decision was made.

She rushed to open the door and get inside. Irrationally not wanting anyone, even a complete stranger, to see her moment of doubt.

 

“You must be Molly’s one o’clock. Charlotte?” A perky voice spoke up from behind a desk that took up the majority of the space.

 

Charlotte turned her head up at the noise and took in the woman behind the desk. The red hair reminding her of Becky before she quickly shook away the thought. Even though they shared the same hair color, the two shared basically nothing else.

 

This woman’s eyes were bright and wide open to the point where Charlotte questioned how much there really was behind those doll eyes. Both women were objectively beautiful but this woman seemed to know it. Embracing it maybe just a bit too much. Her accent only noteworthy because it was so annoyingly California that Charlotte wanted to stab her eardrums.

 

“That’s me.” She tried to politely answer.

 

The redhead seemed happy with the answer. Giving her a small smile. “Great. I’m Christy by the way. Molly will call you in when she’s ready.”

 

Charlotte didn’t want to continue this conversation any longer than necessary so she just nodded and took a seat in one of the hard plastic chairs across from the desk. Pulling out her phone and pretending that she was busy, when in reality she was just staring at her home screen.

 

When she finally heard a door open followed by a gentle, “Ms. Flair?” Charlotte looked up.

 

The woman was shorter than her by a good measure. Her hair cropped short into a pixie cut. She wore relatively casual clothes and her eyes seemed to be scanning Charlotte. “Yep.”

 

“Come on in.” She offered. Holding her hand out as Charlotte shook it in passing. “You can call me Dr. Holly if you really want to. Molly works just fine though.”

 

“Alright Molly. Just call me Charlotte.” The blonde said as she sat down on the comfortable looking three seat couch. Edging all the way to one side and crossing her legs.

 

Molly continued to exude a calming presence. The smile never leaving her face as she sat down in a soft cushioned chair that faced the couch. Folding her legs beneath her and pulling a warm knit blanket over her legs. “Well then. Let’s start with something simple. What brought you here today? Why are you looking to start therapy right now?”

 

Charlotte’s voice started out strong. “My dad actually just died, but I had made this appointment before that.” She swallowed and it grew a tad shaky. “I’d known for some time now that this was coming but it doesn’t make it any easier.” Charlotte had to stop and look out the window. Drawing in a shaky breath as Molly patiently waited for her to continue. “I’m not happy with myself. I lashed out at people that didn’t deserve it. But I… I just…” Head bowing down as she rested her forehead in the palm of her hand. “I don’t know. I kind of hate myself.”

 

Molly looked at her with sympathetic yet critical eyes. “Have you tried just saying sorry?” Obviously knowing the answer but wanting to hear Charlotte say it.

 

Charlotte chuckled darkly. “If it was that easy would I be here?”

 

To her surprise, Molly just laughed off her attitude. “Well then. I suggest we get to work.”

 

Charlotte considered herself a relatively brave person, but the woman’s words made her feel like a child who was frightened of the monster under their bed. Holding power in the darkness but, hopefully disappearing like a shadow in the light.

 

With a hint of her doubt and worry shining through Charlotte gathered up her courage and nodded.

 

**Becky/Sasha**

 

Becky normally liked working in the gym alone late at night. It gave her time to decompress and be alone with her thoughts. The gym feeling like a different world once night fell and everyone left.

 

Tonight felt off. The entire gym now a standing monument to the man who had suddenly passed. Becky’s elation from her victory had faded in record time when she heard the news just several minutes after finishing up her quick post-fight press conference. .

 

Sasha had spent a lot of time in Boston recently, more than she had in years, But when she’d last been here as part of ‘Boss-Z’ she hadn’t REALLY been in Boston. She’d been in the sheltered world of luxury and special treatment that she’d grown accustomed to due to her success. This world followed her around wherever she went, like an insulating bubble. She’d barely been aware of it for a long time, taking it all for granted.

 

Now she realized just how cut off she’d been.

 

Being back in Boston, on her own for once (she hadn’t even let Teddy come with her), was a sobering experience. It was as though Sasha Banks, the woman, had re-emerged after being so long submerged beneath the suffocating mask of ‘the Boss’. She’d deliberately chosen a less fancy hotel that she usually stayed in. She’d checked in under a false name and hadn’t made any media aware that she was in town. There would be no avoiding SOME attention of course, especially at the funeral, but she wanted to minimize it.

 

Becky sighed and repositioned the ladder near one of the gym walls. Bringing some cloth and cleaner to wipe the dust off of all the old pictures and poster frames that lined the walls. Her right knee trembling when she pushed off it to climb up to the next rung. Pushing through till she was standing close to the top and could easily reach what she needed to.

 

If Becky was being honest with herself, there was really no need to be cleaning so thoroughly, but she would rather have a goal to focus on than be left with her own thoughts right now.  

 

There was only so long Sasha she could keep herself couped up in her hotel room. And it seemed that that fucking show was on ALL the time. So that evening she’d pulled on her jacket and walked down to her rental car. After starting it she’d pulled onto the busy Boston streets and had simply driven. She wasn’t sure she should have been behind the wheel frankly, so little attention was she giving the road. But she wanted to think.

 

As drove past the spot that had once been the Old North Church Sasha was lost in reflections on her childhood spent in this city. Specifically she was thinking what her parents, long dead, would think of her present life. Or even what a much younger Sasha would make of it. As a child she’d sometimes looked into downtown Boston and wondered what it would be like to live there in the lights. She’d never imagined she’d own a condo there in addition to a mansion on the California coast.

 

And as she thought, she knew where she had to go. But first, a stop.

 

When she left the first florist she found she drove to a particular run-down neighborhood. A neighborhood that she’d gone to not that long ago. She’d gone there to invade Charlotte Flair’s press conference in what she now realized was a giant temper tantrum. She felt ashamed of herself, and as usual she was tempted to blot this out with anger. To call on ‘the Boss’ to shield her from her own conscience.

 

But for once, she didn’t do this.

 

Being surrounded by images of Ric didn’t really help Becky. Just like everything else she tried, cleaning only helped keep her mind occupied for so long.

 

Meticulously she ensured that not a speck of dust was left. Spending far more time in one location than was needed. Going over and over the same spot till she was sure that it was perfectly clean.

 

Driving down the lonely street toward the Flair Gym she was surprised to see lights on inside. She’d been planning to simply leave the flowers outside at the door. But now...she wasn’t sure. Could she really go in? What if she ran into Charlotte Flair herself? She was tempted, sorely tempted, to once again either hide behind anger or to simply leave. But she astonished herself once more.

 

Something told her that she HAD to go in. That not only COULD she run into Charlotte Flair, but it would best if she did. She needed to express, somehow, how much Ric Flair had meant to her. And it might be that the best way to do that would be to apologize to his daughter. Ric would have wanted that.

 

Taking a deep breath she grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car and into the cold Boston night.

 

The sound of the door opening made Becky groan quietly to herself as she just continued to go about her work. She could have sworn she remembered to lock the doors up for the night but had obviously forgot.

 

She heard soft footsteps make their way further into the gym. The tiny noise sounding much louder in the nearly silent building.

 

Becky didn’t want to give whoever had entered the impression that she wanted to talk so she didn’t even bother turning around. Focusing on the task in front of her and dutifully ignoring the entrant. Tossing out a quick, “Gym opens at nine,” in a blatant dismissal.

 

She made a show of taking extra care in cleaning one of Ric’s old championship belts that was hung high on the wall. Her face dropping in annoyance when didn’t hear any response. Not even the sound of those same soft footsteps leaving from where they came.

 

Sasha had stepped into the gym, bombarded by a sudden flood of memories.  She was only vaguely aware of what she was doing as she stepped into the large open space. Her eyes slide across the rings, the workout equipment, and and the pictures. There were pictures everywhere. She was so enraptured that she completely missed the other person in the room.

 

Becky began to speak even as she twisted to look behind her on the ladder. “If you came here for--” The rest of the sentence catching in her throat when she saw who it was. “What are YOU doing here?” The swift and reflexively cold words coming out before she had time to think.

 

Sasha whirled at the voice, the familiar voice. Finding its source her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I go wherever I like,” she said coolly.

 

With a huff Becky descended the ladder. Taking extra care to try and hide the limp she had since Nikki had swung her baseball bat of a leg into Becky’s surgically repaired knee. She grimaced when she wasn’t able to fully hide it. Hating to show any weakness in front of the person who had caused the initial damage. “Of course you do. I’ll ask you one more time. What are you doing HERE?” Fixing Sasha with a stern glare.

 

“Did I miss something? Do I suddenly have to explain myself to you?” Sasha said acidly.

 

Becky crossed her arms and planted her feet. “This isn’t your gym.”

 

“Who are you? The hostess?” Sasha asked dismissively.

 

“Someone who gives a shit about this place. Doesn’t seem like you do after your last visit.”

 

“How would you know? You hid the whole time,” Sasha shot back, her fists clenching.

 

Becky took a step forward but stopped herself from advancing further. “If Charlotte’s dumb ass hadn’t locked me up you wouldn’t be so mouthy.”

 

Sasha made a show of examining her nails as she said in a falsely casual tone: “Oh right because the last time we fought you put me in my place didn’t you? Oh, wait…”

 

“I’m man enough to admit I took you lightly. On my worst day, you managed to get one up on me. How did your last fight go by the way? Wallet feeling a bit lighter?” Becky mocked.

 

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who’s a has been burnout. Tell me, if you hadn’t gotten lucky against Cross would you have vanished for a year again?” Sasha asked acidly.

 

Becky snorted and gave a dry chuckle with no real humor in it. “You never disappoint. Are you practicing being a bitch for your reality show? Or does it just come naturally?”

 

Sasha had to work to restrain herself from striding toward Lynch now. She HATED being laughed at. “Some of us can handle being a superstar AND the best damn fighter in the world, not that you’d know about that,” she said, her voice decreasing in volume now.

 

Becky's pretend good nature faded quickly. Her eyes searching the woman across from her. Automatically thinking about how best to attack the other woman, and what her tendencies were.

 

She killed those thoughts quickly when she shifted and her knee reminded her that any real heavy physical activity would be a poor choice. If she couldn’t hurt Sasha physically, Becky had only one option. “Oh! By the way… Bobby says hi.”

 

The flames rose higher in Sasha’s gut at this. Her lips compressed into a thin line and her brow twitched as she dropped her flowers and removed her jacket. She then reached slowly up into her hair and grabbed the sunglasses there before tossing them to the ground as well. She followed this by removing her rings and dropping as well, forming a small pile worth well over 20,000 dollars.

 

“Alright tough guy…” she said quietly as she began to stride forward. Sasha had grown up in a rough neighborhood in Boston and she’d known how to fight long before she’d begun training to compete. She was fully prepared to embrace these roots when a crinkling sound made her look down. As she’d been stepping forward she’d accidentally kicked her flowers. She watched, oddly hypnotized, as they slid across the battered floor and came to stop almost perfectly halfway between herself and Lynch.

 

Becky had automatically begun to drop back into a fighting stance as Sasha made clear her intention. Even if she probably wouldn’t win she would make sure the other woman knew she was in a fight. The noise of the flowers sliding across the floor pulled Becky’s attention. In a flash, she realized what Sasha had come here to do and all the fight left her. She felt like she should say or do something, yet she just stood there like a statue. Staring down at the flowers on the floor like she wasn’t sure they were real.

 

Sasha Banks wasn’t one for signs, or omens, or any other form of supernatural communication. But she was suddenly struck by the overwhelming suspicion, nay certainty, that this was a sign from Ric. Even if she was wrong, it was a reminder of him and that was enough to drain the fight right out of her. Something that, thus far in her life, only one other person had ever been able to do. Her arms suddenly felt heavy and she wanted to let her shoulders slump but she wouldn’t, not in front of Lynch.

 

Instead, she paused before speaking in a voice barely above a whisper: “Not here...not now.” As she said this her eyes never left Lynch’s.

 

Becky stared back with a look of mutual understanding. Relenting just enough to give her a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. “Feels weird to say, but I agree.” Right now Becky just wanted to try and keep herself together. She couldn’t risk letting the grief show in front of Banks.

 

Sasha held Lynch’s gaze for what felt like a long time, the air almost smoldering between them. Neither woman would look away, and both knew it. “I don’t like you, Lynch, I never have. You were always overrated even when you had the belt. And I know you don’t like me. But a good man who helped us both died and until we put him in the ground if you stay out of my way I’ll stay out of yours,” she said quietly.

 

“That’s fine by me. I’d hate for you to get the idea we are friends. You don’t seem to be treat them much better judging by how long they stick around.” Becky bit out. Not willing to let Sasha ‘Win’ this verbal sparring.

 

Unbidden, images of Bobby and Bayley rose in Sasha’s head. Lynch’s words tore at an emotional wound that was all the rawer because Sasha knew she was guilty as charged. Any number of retorts suggested themselves to her but she bit all but one back. “Oh yeah? What would you do without my leftovers, Becky? Starve?” she asked as she bent down to retrieve her jewelry and jacket.

 

“You threw them away like trash. What did you expect them to do? Just stop living? I don’t know how the hell they put up with you.” Becky countered. “How did Bayley stay friends with you? You must have some heart in there that she could see.”

 

Sasha stiffened at this and hated herself for being so obviously affected by Lynch’s words. To cover this she turned away from Lynch as she bent to retrieve her flowers. It was on the tip of her tongue to reveal her secret then. To tell Lynch that everything that had happened to her recently was all thanks to her. But something stopped her. That something was the thought of Bayley.

 

Sasha thought of how much she missed Bayley and how badly she’d treated her. This led to a thought of how Bayley would have handled this situation. Bayley would have apologized to Lynch for everything, and extended an olive branch. Sasha wasn’t able to go this far. So, instead, she spoke quietly saying: “Bayley always sees the best in everyone, that’s her gift...even the people who don’t deserve it.” she said this while keeping her face carefully angled away from Lynch.

 

Becky swallowed and took a breath. Sasha’s words striking a chord inside her. “Sounds like her.” Her eyes burning a hole in the floor as she thought about the brunette. “Wish she made better choices with who is worth her time, but I’m sure she would be mad at me for suggesting that.”

 

Sasha almost smiled at this, almost.

 

“I’m sure you’ve learned this by now. Bayley will always try to help people she thinks need it. Even if they try to tell her to go away,” she said, toying idly with the buds of her flowers. A moment later she grasped them and stood slowly but still kept her back to Lynch as she wiped at a rebellious tear.

 

Becky toyed with the idea of saying something that would likely piss Sasha off, but couldn’t find it in her to do it. Talking about Bayley had made her think about what the reporter would tell her to do. “The funeral starts at eleven.” These words as close as she would ever get to telling the other woman that she would accept her for the day and not make a scene. Not really an olive branch, but more of a temporary truce offer.

 

No more words were required, Sasha knew it and she knew that Lynch did as well. She just nodded and looked down at her flowers once more. There was another pause before she walked slowly over to a large picture of Flair, one showing him smiling at the camera with his arms around his children. When she reached it Sasha studied the faces, especially that of Charlotte Flair. She looked so much less burdened, so much happier in this photo.

 

With a rueful expression, Sasha knelt and put the flowers on the ground under the photo. As she stood again she pressed her fingers to her lips and then touched them to the photo, Ric Flair. With that, she left, without another word or once looking back.

 

Becky stood still as she watched Sasha. Keeping quiet and allowing the young woman her moment.

 

As the other fighter left the gym Becky peered down at the flowers. A small petty side of her wanting to just throw them away and erase and evidence that Banks had ever been inside her home.

 

Turning on her heel Becky walked over to the front doors and made sure they were locked. Striding back across the gym and hitting the light switches. Plunging the building into near pitch black. The windows at the top of the walls allowing in a small amount of light from outside.

 

With a heavy heart, Becky walked up to her room.

 

The flowers still sitting untouched beneath the freshly cleaned picture that hung above.

 

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

No one really tells you how much work goes into planning a funeral, but Charlotte had been learning the hard way all week.

 

With just a day until the funeral last minute arrangements continued to roll in. She was sitting in her office and both her office her personal phone had been ringing all day.

 

Her father’s death didn’t mean the world stopped spinning and the gym still needed to be looked after.

 

She tried to follow some of Molly’s advice and took a few sips of some ice cold water to give her a moment to think.

 

It didn’t seem to help much but then again, Charlotte was under an abnormal amount of stress right now.

 

Surrounded by all these old pieces of her father’s memorabilia probably wasn’t helping matters either, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave right now. Old memories floating through her mind as she tried to concentrate. Her hand wiping at one of her eyes before swiping through her hair.

 

When she hung up on the latest news outlet calling for a comment Charlotte melted back into her chair. Enjoying the moment of reprieve before the ringing began again. First from her personal phone and just as she reached it, now from her business one.

 

Charlotte groaned but heard a small knock on her office door. Uncaringly calling out, “It’s open.” Before picking up her personal phone and letting the other ring on. “Hello…”

 

Two connecting flights that amounted to most of the day in the air had left Bayley feeling exhausted. But this had been the first flight she could get and she’d known the moment that she’d heard about Charlotte’s father, that she had to go. Charlotte had been truly horrible to her but this was not the time for dredging up the past. Now was a time when people would reveal their true characters.

 

Flying to the East coast to be there for Charlotte was, of course, primarily about supporting a woman that Bayley had once considered a friend. A woman who had certainly angered her, but one that Bayley still found she liked on some deep and hard to affect level. But it had also been about Bayley’s ability to sleep at night. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she’d chosen this moment to hold onto a grudge.

 

This didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous as she ascended the familiar and yet so alien stairs. She’d exchanged a few pleasantries with Ruby when she’d arrived but it was obvious to her that the fighter was concerned. No doubt she was worried about what kind of explosion might result from her visit. But if there was an explosion it wouldn’t come from Bayley Martinez.

 

“It’s open,” came the familiar voice. The voice that, when Bayley had last heard it, had been full of cold venom. Closing her eyes and taking one last steadying breath she pushed the door open and stepped through, being careful to shut it behind her.

 

Charlotte didn’t even bother looking up as the new entrant approached her. Eyes closed as she was given more information on the funeral. The church now having to adjust the plan due to the fire marshall’s worry over the number of funeral goers. “That sounds fine…” Her other phone finally stopped ringing and Charlotte could focus on the words being spoken to her. Holding up a finger to whoever had entered and staring down at the long list of things that needed to be done strewed across her desk.

 

Bayley wasn’t sure what to do. Charlotte hadn’t even looked up and seemed unaware of who was standing across from her. Bayley took the chance to study the other woman, and she was concerned about what she saw. Charlotte’s usually immaculately pressed and clean clothing was looking decidedly rumpled. She’d obviously put her makeup on in a hurry and her hair looked like it hadn’t been properly washed in a few days.

 

She was looking tired as well, exhausted even. This wasn’t surprising of course, her father had just died. But when Bayley considered all the others thing on Charlotte’s plate she was actually surprised Charlotte even looked as good as she did. As if to emphasize her overworked status her desk phone began to ring again even as she was still on her personal cell. When this happened Charlotte spun her chair away from the phone, and Bayley, obviously trying to minimize the noise.

 

Bayley licked her lips but didn’t say anything until the phone on the desk stopped ringing. She was just drawing breath to say something when it began to ring again. Looking down at the switchboard Bayley saw that there were actually multiple calls coming in on the line. Just as she noticed this she heard Charlotte make a frustrated sound from behind her chair followed by something that sounded like a choked sob.

 

Setting her face Bayley stepped forward, set down the bag she’d been carrying, and picked up the phone saying: “Ms. Flair’s office.”

 

Charlotte felt like she was ready to scream at the neverending assault on her senses. The sudden voice from behind her sounded familiar, and it took only a second for her to place it.

 

She kept her phone at the side of her head even though she was no longer listening. Spinning her chair slowly back around for her eyes to confirm what she already knew.

 

When she spotted it was Bayley she could feel her eyes widen with shock. Convinced that the other woman probably would want nothing to do to her. She had even come to accept that Bayley might not even listen should she try and apologize, but to see her here suddenly in person shocked Charlotte to her core.

 

Her eyes caught onto the reporters and Charlotte knew she must look like she’d seen a ghost. The last thing she would have expected today was Bayley in her office. Even though she assumed the brunette would want to come to the funeral that didn’t mean she was going to interact with Charlotte after their last meeting.

 

“We’re sorry, but Ms. Flair will not be offering any comments at the moment. If you have any further questions please direct them to Alexa Bliss, thank you,” Bayley said, giving Charlotte a tired but friendly smile. She repeated this formula five times in a row until she’d cleared the lines. When she had she reached down and unplugged the phone. This left the room in a very heavy silence. Bayley’s smile was starting to feel very strained as she continued to look at Charlotte’s face. There she saw an expression that suggested Charlotte had either seen a ghost or just been exposed to a great deal of electrical current.

 

After these uncomfortable moment’s had begun stretch toward a minute she cleared her throat and said: “It seemed like you could use the help.” Lifting the phone's receiver again as though Charlotte wouldn’t be aware of what she’d meant.

 

Charlotte hung up on whoever she had been ignoring. Blinking a few times and sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Here was an opportunity to apologize, but Charlotte didn’t feel she deserved it. “Thanks…” Holding her breath as a part of her continued to almost question if she was dreaming. She hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep or any for that matter, so it wasn’t out of the question.

 

“Reporter...shrink...and press sec,” Bayley said timidly. The joke was feeble beyond belief but it was all she could manage at the moment.

 

The blonde allowed herself a tiny smile. Silencing her phone when she saw another call coming in already. More than likely whoever she hung up on was calling back. “Impressive resume.”

 

Rather than try to preserve the limp repartee Bayley turned around and opened the bag she’d been carrying. Reaching inside she turned around with a six pack of beer in her hand. “ _Ha sido un tiempo,”_ she said tentatively.

 

“It has.” Charlotte swallowed around the lump in her throat. If Bayley was willing to try then Charlotte figured she needed to try twice as hard in return. Her mouth suddenly feeling dry just as she began to speak. “I’m an asshole.” Taking a deep breath and licking her lips. “I need to say that I’m sorry for how I acted that night. I don’t know if I can overstate how sorry I am.” There was just something about Bayley that made Charlotte want to be better. Bayley probably wouldn’t consider herself a leader, but it was hard not to want to follow her example if you were around her for any significant amount of time.

 

“I know you’ll fully appreciate it when I say, I’m kind of getting used to receiving this sort of apology,” Bayley said with a sad smile that was nonetheless more genuine than previously. To give herself something to do she dug out two beers and, automatically it seemed, moved to stand in front of Charlotte’s desk to open it on the corner. As she did she saw the many scuff marks that she herself had made there.

 

“Could you at least call me a few names. Maybe tell me how much of an ass I am?” Charlotte jokingly, but also seriously asked. “That would actually be easier than you taking the high road.” Her eyes found the framed picture of them still sitting on her desk angled towards Charlotte and away from the brunette.

 

“OK…” Bayley said quietly as she rounded the desk to hand Charlotte an open beer before sitting on her desk. The truth was, part of Bayley wanted to do everything Charlotte was suggesting and more. She wanted to demand to know how Charlotte could have been so cruel. But perhaps it was her years of dealing with fighters, or maybe something else, but she found this voice easy to ignore. Looking down at Charlotte she said one word: “... _amiga_.”

 

Charlotte accepted the beer and her eyes drifted back to the picture before moving back to the real life version in front of her. She wanted to say it was far more than she deserved, but Molly had helped make her aware of her own tendency towards personal self-sabotage and she pushed down the instinct. “ _Gracias...”_ She said and raised her beer. _“Amiga.”_

  
People didn’t always get a second chance, let alone a third. Charlotte would make sure she didn’t throw it away this time.

 

Bayley sipped her beer silently for a few moments before, despite the sadness of the situation, the barest of smiles touched her face as she said: “ _Puta…”_

 

Charlotte grinned.

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

Charlotte stared into the mirror at herself. Obsessively straightening out the black dress she wore as if this time would suddenly make her feel ready to face the inevitable.

 

She had already been getting ready for far longer than necessary, so it should have come as no surprise when a gentle knock tapped against the wood door. “Charlotte?” The tentative and unsure voice of Becky came through.

 

Charlotte gave up on trying to fix the probably imagined imperfections and gulped. “Yeah.”

 

Becky’s head poked inside. Her hair loose, with rebellious orange tendrils deciding to escape from the rest and fall in front of her eyes. The Irish woman quickly pushing them back behind her ear as she gave Charlotte a smile that was not quite right. “People are starting to arrive.”

 

The words were technically correct but Charlotte knew Becky meant that people arrived who were looking to speak to her. Sighing out loud Charlotte answered. “Thanks, Becky.” Her heart hammering in her chest at the reality that would face her when she made her way down to the funeral itself.

 

The door opened a little further before Becky clearly thought better of it. Her nails tapping nervously against the wood. “Don’t mention it… I will try to buy you some more time.” Inherently understanding that the blonde was obviously not looking forward to being told ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ over and over and over again.

 

Just before the door closed Charlotte called out, “Becky!” and the redhead quickly poked her head back in with a quizzical look. Charlotte floundered for a moment as the apology she wanted to say was on the tip of her tongue. “... Thanks.”

 

Becky forced a tiny smile but held her tongue. Just giving a tiny nod and vanishing as quickly as she had come.

 

When she looked back in the mirror Charlotte was sorely tempted to continue trying to fix non-existent problems but decided that she had to go face the music eventually.

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

Becky walked back down to the main floor of the church where the funeral was being held and with a deep breath went back into the fray. Trying to greet the funeral goers and help keep everything relatively on track.

 

Normally, something like this would fall on Charlotte or Alexa’s shoulders, but both blondes were occupied. One, upstairs with her own grief, and the other was dealing with the media and trying to ensure that no over-eager journalists somehow cast a shadow on such a somber day.

 

She had just finished having a quick chat with Arn Anderson and was moving to find something else to keep her busy when a voice she would have rather never heard again burst into her ears.

 

“Becky! Oh my gosh! Poor girl. Are you doing alright?” Her ex Carmella’s infuriatingly annoying voice seemed out of place in the current setting.

 

Becky had to close her eyes and clench her fists before she turned. Fury rising as she saw the other woman dressed in an almost blindingly yellow dress that seemed so tight Becky was honestly unsure if the other woman could breathe. The neckline plunging so low that it ended just above Carmella’s belly button. Not exactly normal funeral attire to say the least.

 

Looking to both sides Becky saw that Carmella’s appearance and piercing voice had already attracted attention.

  
Becky had no intention of allowing anything to screw up the service and with a low growl she grabbed a hold of Carmella by the elbow and dragged her off to a small unoccupied alcove on the side. Roughly handling her till they were sufficiently away from the rest of the arriving guests that they hopefully wouldn’t notice.

 

“What the fuck do you want?” Becky hissed out as she nearly tossed the other woman when she let go of her hold.

 

Carmella rubbed at her arm and grinned over at Becky. “No need to be so rough.” Leaning in close enough that the Irish woman could recall the old perfume she always wore; _Arrogance_ , not to mention giving her a generous view down her cleavage. “Save it for the bedroom sweetheart.”

 

Becky growled and poked a finger into the other woman’s chest. “You have to be insane if you think I would ever want anything to do with you again.” She couldn’t deny that Carmella still looked stupidly beautiful, but there was and hadn’t ever really been anything more than that to draw her in.

 

“Are you sure Becks?” Carmella licked her lips. “We had such good times didn’t we?”

 

Memories of alcohol and pill motivated fucking blew through Becky’s mind and an odd part of herself did miss the simplicity of it. At least in those moments, everything felt so simple, but Becky knew now that was an illusion. A tempting illusion for sure, but not a real solution. “I don’t know what the hell you are remembering. Why are you even here?”

 

“I can’t come to say goodbye to a legend?” Carmella tried her best to feign hurt at Becky’s words.

 

“Wrong answer. You get one more shot before I throw you out of here.” Becky warned.

 

Carmella’s facade of caring seemed to fade and for just a moment her eyes looked like that of a predator stalking her prey. “I know you. Figured you might need a little help getting over the old man.” Her intentions clear now to Becky.

 

“Win a couple fights and suddenly you pretend to give a shit?”

 

“You’re being very rude Becky.” The woman in question rolling her eyes. “I’m just offering you an escape.” Carmella slowly moving forward like a panther. Backing Becky up until the wall stopped her retreat. “A way to blow off some steam.” Her right hand landing on Becky’s thigh and trailing up beneath the hem of her dress. “I can tell you need it.”

 

Becky inhaled sharply as Carmella’s fingers danced on her thigh. “You might be right.” The other woman’s face rising in triumph, “But you are the last person on earth that I would look to for help.”

 

Carmella’s face falling and being replaced with a snarl before she realized and tried another approach.

 

Even with a fighter’s reflexes, Becky was caught off guard by Carmella throwing herself at her. Fusing their lips together and moving her hand even further upwards.

 

After a second of surprise, Becky quickly grabbed Carmella’s hand from under her dress and spun them around. Slamming the other woman a little harder than necessary in her anger. “You really need to leave before I do something I regret.”

 

Carmella just smirked and ran the fingers of her free hand through Becky’s hair, much to the redhead’s chagrin. “I’m worried about you sweetheart. You’re so tense. Someone needs to be there for you during these ‘trying’ times.”

 

Bayley had been standing off to one side of the nave. She’d been engaged in conversation with two legends of the boxing world, JJ Dillon and Tully Blanchard. Under better circumstances, Bayley would have tried to get them to make some on the record comments. Both men had been part of Ric Flair’s unofficial group that had ruled the sport through the ’80s and early ’90s. Today, she was too glum herself to do much more than be a sympathetic ear for the two men.

 

She’d been at this for a few minutes before an odd motion over Tully’s shoulder caught her eye. It took Bayley a moment to realize what had caught her attention, it was a sudden flash of red hair ducking into one of the alcoves that lined the nave and contained the smaller shrines. A moment later comprehension followed as another bright flash, this time a very out of place yellow dress, followed the hair.

 

Bayley had seen the dress earlier, noting it with disapproval. Not so much for the garment itself, though it was out of place both by color and style for a funeral, but more who was wearing it. Carmella Dale had been Becky’s ‘girlfriend’ during the most public parts of her downward spiral. Bayley had never met the woman but as a reporter who had documented much of that sad time she couldn’t help but know who she was.

 

She supposed there didn’t have to be anything inherently bad about Becky speaking with the woman again. Becky was a big girl and could look out for herself...usually. But something was setting Bayley on edge about the whole thing. Excusing herself she hurried across the nave toward the alcove. She couldn’t see anything more than Carmella’s back but was fairly sure this was only due to her angle. The other two women would be invisible to the church at large. Then she saw Carmella lunge at Becky.

 

Pique rose inside of Bayley as she watched the woman press her lips to Becky’s. Quite apart from it being fairly classless behavior at a funeral she was also indignant on her friend's behalf. An uncharacteristic rage began to build inside of Bayley as she continued to hurry forward. She only stopped once, to gently touch the elbow of Ruby Riott, who was talking with Liv and several other people.

 

“Make sure no one follows me for a few minutes OK?” she asked the fighter. Ruby seemed startled by the request but she nodded and Bayley gave her arm a squeeze before closing the final twenty feet or so.

 

She’d discarded her first impulse to grab Carmella by her fake hair and to demonstrate to the world just how much of it WAS fake. This was a funeral after all. But she had thought of something that ought to serve just as well.

 

Schooling her face into a pleasant smile she stopped just outside the alcove and called in an innocent voice: “Becky? Are you over here Becky?”

 

When she heard the new voice entering Becky froze. Almost all thought of Carmella leaving her in an instant as she whirled around to see if her ears were deceiving her. She had assumed that Bayley would want to make it to the funeral but hadn’t seen her enter. “I’m right here Bay.” She answered breathily. Carmella huffing in annoyance as Becky ignored her.

 

Finally rounding the corner into the alcove with an expression of perfect innocence on her face Bayley searched theatrically before she allowed her gaze to fall on Becky. The situation was fairly obvious from the way Carmella was looking down and tugging at the hem of her dress. Part of Bayley, a part she wasn’t proud of, automatically asked whether or not Becky had actually wanted this. But she shoved that aside. Not only did she believe Becky had changed for the better but she also needed to get her out of here.

 

“Oh, there you are _hermosa,_ I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said happily as she stepped forward with her hand out to Becky. She was speaking in a much more girlish voice that was usual for her and she hoped Becky would pick up on the cue.

 

Luckily Becky was facing away from Carmella. Her expression was dumbstruck by the reporter's sudden appearance and altered voice. Staring at Bayley’s extended hand as if she wasn’t sure what to do with it. She recognized the Spanish word Bayley used, but couldn’t place it. “Bayley?”

 

“ _Aye dios mio,_ of course, ‘Bayley’” Bayley said with the air of a chagrined spouse confronted by their forgetful partner. Stepping forward she yanked Becky to her side with as much force as she could without making it obvious. Snaking her arm through the startled fighters she turned to Carmella with an incandescent grin and said, still in her obnoxious voice: “Hi! I’m Bayley Martinez, with MMAyley.com? I hope she hasn’t been bothering you has she?”

 

Becky’s eyes were still wide as she found herself pulled tight against Bayley. Carmella glaring at them with curiosity and barely concealed fury. Her smirk turning towards Bayley now, “Of course not. We were just getting… reacquainted.” The former Pats cheerleader made sure to make the last word seem as lascivious as possible.

 

Becky growled at the way Carmella was clearly trying to intimidate Bayley. Taking a step forward before a deceptively strong arm pulled her back.

 

“Oh, you know Becky?” Bayley asked eagerly. “Well I’m sorry for interrupting but I need to borrow her for a bit. But I guess we have a minute here so we can all get acquainted can’t we _hermosa?”_ Bayley crooned before leaning in to kiss Becky on the cheek.

 

If Becky’s brain was a computer than she needed time to reboot. She had got an inkling of what Bayley was trying to do when she pulled her to her side, but the kiss had caught her off guard. Her feet luckily seemed to still be working as she hadn’t fallen flat and her brain was slowly starting to catch back up. “ _Hermosa?_ That means beautiful or something right?”

 

 _“Dios mio, a veces no tienes remedio…”_ Bayley said with a sitcom-worthy eye roll before turning to Carmella “...honestly we’ve been together for a few months and she still doesn’t know any Spanish!”

 

If Carmella was fuming before, she was nearly murderous at this point. “Really? Becky didn’t mention she was seeing anyone?”

 

“I know right? Honestly, I feel like she sometimes leaves her brain in the cage, you know?” Bayley laughed as she put an arm around Becky’s waist. She felt the other woman stiffen at this and for a moment wondered if she was pushing things too far so changed tacts. “You two couldn’t have picked a better place to chat though,” she said as she nodded toward the large statue that made up the shrine. “Do you know who that is?” she asked earnestly.

 

Carmella crossed her arms. Not even bothering to look at the statue that loomed behind them. “Enlighten me.”

 

Bayley had grown up Catholic and had largely resented the countless hours she had to spend in various churches. But suddenly she was glad for the many MANY Saints that had been pounded into her brain. Smiling like a tour guide she said: “That’s Saint Nicholas! You know...Santa Claus? Anyway, he was a truly exceptional man who was very generous with the poor, even dropping little bags of coins into their home...which is why we have some of our Christmas traditions. Now, he’s a busy guy as the patron saint of archers, merchants, pawn brokers, sailors, brewers, and students!” she finished happily before adding, in a voice much more like her own “...as well as prostitutes.”

 

Becky was in the middle of rebooting her brain once again after Bayley’s arm had slipped around her waist. After Carmella had made the move on her Becky had begun to recall just how long it had been for her since the last time she had significant contact with someone outside of fighting. The warm arm around her waist holding no ill intent made her feel abnormally content and safe. Finding it hard to concentrate on Bayley and Carmella’s conversation when she just wanted to indulge in this feeling. Her ears perking up at the end and finding herself a little stunned at Bayley’s clear insult.

 

Carmella’s mouth opened and closed several times. Her hands clenching at her sides in futility. She sneered at Bayley. “What makes you think you can talk to ME like that?” Voice rising slightly in volume as she looked Bayley up and down. “She’ll get bored of you in a second. Then she will come crawling back to me.”

 

Becky had enough of being a spectator. “ENOUGH!” Breathing deeply through her nostrils as her anger grew. Not only did Carmella decide to come here and disrespect Ric but now she was trying to make Bayley feel less than. “I told you kindly to leave. Now I am TELLING you to get the fuck out of here.” Her arm unconsciously slipping around Bayley’s midsection and giving her a small squeeze.

 

“Maybe find the other half of your dress too...this is a church,” Bayley said with cloying sweetness as she wiggled her fingers at Carmella.

 

Carmella stomped away in a huff. Doing her best to ignore the two. Her stiletto heels clicking away on the stone floor and heralding her departure.

 

Waiting until Carmella was far enough that she wouldn’t able to hear Becky leaned in towards Bayley and whispered. “Thanks. I was close to just knocking her out and trying to hide the body.”

 

Bayley laughed as she leaned her head against Becky’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth and comfort of her friend’s presence. “I never was a mean girl, but I was one of their favorite targets...feels kinda good to be on the other end of one of those lines for once,” she said idly.

 

Becky felt her heart warm a little bit at the small tidbit of information Bayley felt comfortable sharing with her. Tilting her head down and pressing a kiss to the top of the brunette’s hair. “You deserve it… And so does she.”

 

Bayley smiled again as she felt Becky kiss her head. Despite the sad setting some of her innate mischief returned briefly as she said: “I know we shouldn’t, because she’s having a terrible time, but wouldn’t it be hilarious if we walked over to Charlotte like this and told her we were dating? I think the veins in her forehead might literally burst.”

 

The redhead gave a light laugh out of respect for the attempt but felt a bit reserved. She was trying to be nice to Charlotte, but the way she had acted when Ric had collapsed still stuck with her. “Yeah… Probably.”

 

Bayley sensed the hesitation in her friend but decided it was probably just that Becky wasn’t ready to joke about today. Bayley had to admit she had an unfortunate tendency to respond to situations like this with deflecting humor. So she let her face fall a little and said, without pulling away: “Alright Lynch, if you’re my date today then let's get in there and support our girl.”

 

Becky found herself smiling a tiny bit. The last time they had messaged coming floating back into her head. Being her date for the day didn’t sound too bad. She missed having someone around that she got along with. Not that she didn’t get along with Liv or Ruby, but the two came as a package deal more often than not, which resulted in Becky always feeling a bit like a third wheel. “I’d be honored to be your date for the day.” Unable to stop herself from squeezing Bayley just a bit tighter before letting go. The loss of contact almost automatically making her hand seek out the reporters and wrap around it.

 

Maybe with Bayley there, she could make it through this. Bayley always seemed to make everything easier.

 

**Sasha**

 

It felt ridiculous to say, considering how she’d grown up, but Sasha Banks was no longer used to driving herself to any sort of public event. She’d almost forgotten what kind of hassle finding parking could be.

 

When she did eventually find a spot a block or so from the church she made her way back, struggling slightly as she almost never wore heels and it was still somewhat icy. As she approached the stone steps she was instantly away of many eyes turning toward her. Sasha might not have been wearing her usual ‘boss’ gear but her hair made her very easy to spot.

 

Of course the funeral of Ric Flair would involve may of the combat sporting world’s elite. These people were, in many cases, Sasha’s peers. Some of them were even people she admired. Which made the almost uniformly hostile looks she got all the more galling. She knew the reason of course, her last fight.

 

The condemnation for her actions in the cage had come from all quarters. But the loudest had come from her fellow fighters, and this had been what had hurt most. Sasha could generally care less what the media had to say about her, she’d only ever really cared for one member of it. And criticism from outside the MMA world was easiest to ignore. But though she’d never been explicit about it, she’d always wanted the recognition of her peers.

 

It wasn’t even important that the other fighters ‘like’ her per say. She just wanted to be acknowledged as the best there was by people who actually knew. But the icy stares she was getting as she ascended toward the double doors was enough to remind her how far her actions had set her back in the regard.

 

Still if there had been one positive aspect the drastic changes that had occured in her personality over the last few years, it was an increased ability to block out hostile voices. She’d had to become very good at this. From the old school purists in her early years to the hostility now, there was always someone.

 

Reaching the top of the steps, she looked through the doors into the narthex without really seeing anything. Contrast with the daylight outside casing the interior of the church into shadow. She suddenly felt apprehensive as she never did before a fight. Swallowing hard she adjusted her hat and strode confidently into the church.

 

Only to be greeted by the one person she’d been dreading seeing most, and yet knew she had to confront.

 

**Sasha/Charlotte**

 

Charlotte strode down to the main floor looking about as held together as one could expect of her given the circumstances.

 

She looked over the sea of people that had came out for her father’s funeral and was nearly overwhelmed with the amount of faces she recognized. Knowing that each of them was going to look at her with sympathy when Charlotte would prefer anything but.

 

Steering away from the crowd she walked closer to the walls. Walking around the building till she neared the entrance and came to a stop when she spotted yet another familiar face. An odd part of her almost welcoming the distraction. “I hope you aren’t here to make a scene.”

 

Sasha pursed her lips and removed her non-Boss sunglasses. Turning to look the tall blonde woman in her face she said: “I respected your father too much for that, as far as I’m concerned we’re under a truce.”

 

Charlotte was a little shocked. A part of her remembered the brash, young and mostly nice girl she had known for a short time in the past, but she had a hard time comparing that to the woman in front of her right now. With a heavy sigh she realized that she was probably one of the last people to be judging and decided to give Sasha the benefit of the doubt for now. “Forgive me if I’m a little wary after last time, but I will try to be civil as long as you stay the same.”

 

Even with her head preoccupied Charlotte started slowly putting together the combustible elements that currently were inhabiting the funeral and she just hoped nothing would happen to disturb this odd peace that seemed to be holding.

 

Charlotte stepped closer to Sasha and leaned in. Her voice low but serious as she looked the other woman up and down. “Bayley is here… Don’t mess with her again. She doesn’t need it.” She warned. Even though it felt hypocritical coming from her, Charlotte was determined to try and be a better friend to the woman who’s easy forgiveness she didn’t deserve.

 

Two dominant reactions rose and began to war inside of Sasha at this. The first, was a sudden irrational concern for how much Charlotte might know about her previous relationship with Bayley. It seemed unlikely that the reporter would have told anyone since she’d been so adamant about it remaining secret, but Sasha couldn’t claim to know her well anymore. The second, and more predictable, reaction was anger at anyone trying to tell her what to do.

 

Almost every other day of her adult life the second would have won out easily. But not today.

 

“I don’t see how that’s ANY of your business, but I’m not here to cause trouble. Don’t go manufacturing it,” she whispered back, knowing that many eyes around the narthex would be on them.

 

“Fine.” She hissed back. Her fire deflating when she looked back over her shoulder and spotted the casket at the far end. Turning back towards Sasha and holding her head high to give at least the illusion of calm. “For today; I trust you.”

 

A dozen sharp retorts suggested themselves to Sasha. But somehow, none of them seemed appealing right now. It wasn’t hard for Sasha to determine why, either. Bayley was here. She’d always found it easier to be...better...when the reporter was around. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath Sasha did something completely out of character.

 

Reaching tentatively out with her hand toward the blonde woman she was prepared for her to recoil. But when she didn’t, Sasha put her hand on Charlotte’s tense forearm and looked up into the other woman’s eyes. She saw suspicion and uncertainty there, but it wasn’t hard to see past this to the pain there. “I’m sorry...Charlotte,” she said quietly, feeling almost as though a stranger was speaking with her voice.

 

Charlotte had been told these exact same words hundreds of times in the last few days. Each time the words seemed to mean less and less. Offering no real comfort, but rather forcing her to pretend she was thankful in some way that yet another person said sorry when there was nothing for them to truly be sorry about.

 

When Sasha said them they felt real in a way that stunned Charlotte into silence. Those same words somehow holding another level of meaning when spoken by someone who had no real connection to the blonde. The mask she tried to hold onto slipping away for a moment as she blinked and nodded. The words, “Thank you Sasha.” coming out in a gravely tone. Her throat suddenly feeling dry as sandpaper. “I don’t know what my father meant to you… But I’m sorry as well.”

 

Seeing Charlotte’s mask shake a little was enough to almost do the same to Sasha. It was surreal to her, for a long time now Charlotte and everything about her had been ‘the enemy’. But now, free from ‘the Boss’ for once, Sasha could just see another woman who was already missing her father. She doubted they could ever get to a point where they would be friends. But she knew what she was doing was right for once.

 

This was a new kind of experience for her. Sasha had lived most of her adult life doing exactly what she wanted, and it often felt ‘good’. But she wasn’t sure how often she’d even thought about doing what was ‘right’. It definitely wasn’t as easy as her usual pattern of behavior, but it was much more satisfying.

 

Taking Charlotte’s forearm and pulling the taller woman gently downward so she could speak directly in her ear, Sasha said: “You don’t need to worry about me.”

 

Charlotte drew back after a moment and nodded solemnly. Looking over her shoulder once again and seeing quite a few faces swiftly turn to look away from the pair. “So you can find your own seat then?” She threw back with none of the bite. Her tone as close to joking as it could be under the circumstances.

 

“I think I remember how,” Sasha said, almost smiling.

 

**Charlotte**

 

Public speaking was not Charlotte’s favorite thing to do no matter what the subject matter.

 

She paced off to the side as the priest continued to speak. Knowing that she was up next to speak filled her with an odd sense of foreboding.

 

Having to go up in front of such a large crowd and speak about her father made her feel like throwing up, despite having next to nothing in her stomach.

 

She had known that her nerves would likely appear and had been sure to keep her speech relatively short and to the point. Not wanting to spend too much time on the dias, lest she start breaking down before it was finished.

 

As the first speaker Charlotte was at least going to get it out of the way quick. Waiting longer would only make it worse on her in the longer run.

 

Charlotte knew the officiant well. Bruce Pritchard had been a mainstay at this church as far back as the blonde could remember. He turned towards her and gave her a sad smile. Ushering her up and patting her on the shoulder as she past him.

 

Now that she was up in front of everyone Charlotte felt her body start to go into fight or flight mode. The hand holding her speech shaking as she placed it on the podium in front of her. She stared out over the crowd and couldn’t help but notice the orange hair that stood out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd. Her eyes falling on Becky and seeing that Bayley was sitting right next to her.

 

She took a deep breath and stared down at the podium. Gathering herself before she began. Her voice starting off with an initial shakiness that she powered through. “I loved my father... We had our problems. We shared tragedy… I know for so many of you here he was a hero. An idol to look up to, but to me and so many others he was family. He was my dad... He would be the first to tell you he wasn’t always the greatest person, but that wouldn’t stop you from wanting to be around him. Ric had a personality that just drew people to him. He had a gift to make the world seem a little bigger and brighter just by being near him.” Charlotte closed her eyes and couldn’t stop her own tears. Foregoing the next few sentences she had written down in her haste to get off the dias, “I’ll miss you.” She honestly spoke towards the casket. “Keep Reid company for me.”

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley found it very comforting to be sitting with Becky throughout the funeral.

 

It wasn’t as though she’d never been to a funeral before, but somehow this one felt...more personal. She hadn’t even known Ric Flair all that well, they’d spoken from time to time while she’d been in Boston and these talks had been pleasant. But she wouldn’t see they’d been friends, though Ric probably would have.

 

Yet for all that, she found herself absolutely desolated.

 

A large part of this, she knew, was due to Charlotte. The other woman was usually so poised, so calm, and so in charge that seeing her so deeply affected was heartbreaking. Bayley had thought Charlotte very brave for agreeing to deliver the eulogy at her father’s funeral. If Bayley had lost her dad she knew she’d be in no position for public speaking at the funeral. Then she’d watched with a heavy heart as Charlotte had struggled to read her prepared remarks.

 

Now, seeing her standing by the casket, all Bayley wanted to do was to go to her. But she couldn’t.

 

Becky was resting her head on Bayley’s shoulder and as Charlotte had spoken the Irish woman had squeezed Bayley’s hand. Bayley had returned the pressure, grateful to have someone there with her at the moment. She would smother Charlotte in sympathy and support as soon as it was possible. But right now she didn’t want to do anything to disturb Becky.

 

Without having to turn, Bayley had felt the Irish woman sniffle once or twice. She made a conscious effort not to look down at these times, know that her friend wouldn’t want her to see. But she squeezed Becky’s hand each time, just to let her knew she was there.

 

What she was unaware of, was that she was being watched.

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha had ended up sitting at the very back of the church.

 

This wasn’t entirely her own choice, she had arrived somewhat late. But there was also the fact that she had no desire to draw any unnecessary attention to herself and thus potentially disrupt the funeral. She was still somewhat surprised how seriously she was taking the promise she’d made to Flair just a short time ago. She would NOT be a distraction here.

 

And she would rain down on anyone who was.

 

As the priest spoke Sasha found herself lost in her memories of the man they were all honoring. Ric Flair had loomed large in the collective consciousness of Boston when she’d been growing up. Bird, Mchale Brady, Belichick, and Flair were names spoken in the same breath. In a very real way, the city itself was in mourning.

 

Sasha wondered what Ric had really thought of her career in recent years. The man had been famous in his youth for his wildl lifestyle outside the ring, in many ways when Sasha had been crafting the ‘Boss’ persona she’d been unconsciously borrowing from Ric. It was funny, in a tragic sort of way, that while Ric had been a huge influence in the best part of her life, he’d also been one in the worst. Sasha would have loved to talk to him about that irony.

 

But she’d never get that chance now.

 

A single tear ran down her cheek at this thought and she looked down to conceal this. She was more free of the Boss than she’d been in years but even Sasha Banks wasn’t ready to let people see her cry. She wept quietly for a few moments before something Charlotte had told her swam to front of her mind: “ _Bayley is here_ …”

 

This added a bitter edge to her sadness.

 

As part of of her unusual clarity today Sasha was realizing yet another hard truth. Despite what she’d been telling herself for so long, it wasn’t actually Bayley’s fault that their relationship had imploded. The journalist had certainly insisted that they keep their arrangement secret, but Sasha had been the one who had created the environment that had made her leery. Sasha had been the one who’d decided her celebrity was what mattered. She’d been the one who’d unfairly assumed that Bayley would just wait for her.

 

On today of all days, Sasha Banks wasn’t going to buy her own crap. She’d lost Bayley because of her actions.

 

But maybe she could start making it right.

 

She scanned the church privately for a few seconds without any success. Then she realized she’d been unconsciously seeking Bayley’s trademark side ponytail. But even the reporter wouldn’t be wearing it at a funeral. This made her search that much harder.

 

It occured to Sasha then that, for all she knew, Bayley wasn’t even wearing the side pony any more. She actually didn’t know much at all about what the other woman had been doing in recent months. She’d read some of her articles about Becky Lynch, but really only just as a way to make herself angry. When she was angry, she could hide from her problems. When she was angry she could pretend nothing was her fault.

 

Or she had in the past.

 

Being more careful this time, she scanned the crowd again, tuning out the priest who seemed to be telling everyone individually how much he loved them. It took awhile but eventually she spotted the brunette reporter sitting towards the front on the opposite side of the church. But she didn’t have time to relish this. She’d seen who Bayley was sitting next to. The orange hair was unmistakable.

 

Bayley wasn’t just sitting next to Becky Lynch, the irish woman was resting her head on Bayley’s shoulder.

 

Sasha forced herself to stare at this for a long time.Unbidden, from deep within her, the Boss arose. Offering her the easy escape of jealous anger. It would be so easy to hide as she always did.

 

But as she’d said to Lynch herself. Not here, not now.

 

Because she’d been right earlier. This was her fault. And now she had to watch as the woman she’d once loved, and Sasha had to admit that, comforted another in her arms. More insight hit her then, though it brought no joy. Throughout the last few days she realized she’d been unconsciously hoping that Bayley could do what she always had. That she could push back the boss and save Sasha.

 

But now Sasha knew, there would be no rescue coming.

 

And it was her fault.

 

**Becky**

 

Having attended several funerals prior Becky could honestly say that none of them compared to this. They had all been for people that she had hardly really known. People she hadn’t seen in months if not years.

 

She had been speaking with Ric the day before she boarded a plane for her fight.

 

She still remembered the brief conversation they had.

 

Becky had been throwing on a coat to leave. Having already been sitting at his bedside for almost an hour. Taking care to hide the wrappings for the cheeseburger she had smuggled in. Ric having mentioned in her previous visit to him in the hospital that the food there was horrible.

 

“I know my daughter can be an ass.” He had said. The words catching her off guard with such honesty about his own daughter. “Don’t let her keep my worst traits.”

 

“I’ll do my best.” Becky had replied. The words feeling heavy as she watched the blonde struggle through her speech.

 

She had meant it, but actually practicing it was difficult. The biting words the blonde had said stopping her from fully committing to the promise.

 

Becky took comfort in the steadfast warmth next to her. Unconsciously leaning her head onto Bayley’s shoulder after they sat down, and not bothering to remove it once she became aware of it. Bayley seemed to be alright with the somewhat intimate action so why not let herself take what was being freely offered.

 

Having someone so larger than life suddenly gone from the world hit her harder than she was willing to admit. Fighting to keep her tears under control and sniffling as quietly as she could. Shutting her eyes tight against the vivid images of Ric lying motionless on the floor after his collapse.

 

Was there something she could have done? Could she have noticed something that may have helped prevent his death?

 

Though some rational part of her brain fought back against the absurd claims another part continued to wonder.

 

Bayley’s subtle reassuring squeeze brought her back to the present. Her eyes opening again and letting the buildup of tears leak out and splash down onto the other woman dress.

 

Just like all the other times Bayley was just there for her without intruding too much. Somehow knowing inherently what Becky needed.

 

She let out a small shuddering breath as Charlotte moved off the podium.

 

Nuzzling her head into Bayley’s shoulder a little more as she squeezed back. Running her thumb gently on the back of the other woman’s hand in appreciation.

 

Becky had felt lonely for some time. Floating adrift at sea until Bayley came and scooped her out of the water.

 

The last year and a half had been some of the most difficult and trying time of her life and she had trudged through it alone. Walking through the fire and finally making it out the other side with the scars to prove it. Alone by her own choice. Content to sit in her own hell and climb out under her own power. Not willing to pull someone down to her level just because she was lonely.

  
That choice was made a long time ago. By a woman Becky hardly recognized anymore.

 

Maybe she was ready to not be lonely.

 

**Becky/Sasha/Charlotte/Bayley**

 

Charlotte thought that getting through her speech would be the most difficult thing she would have to do today.

 

She was wrong. Watching her father’s casket lowered into the cold ground, a small clearing dug out of the thin layer of snow that remained was by far the hardest part. Chest tightening with every breath.

 

Slowly the crowd had dispersed. Paying their last respects and moving on with their lives.

 

Charlotte envied them. Molly and her had discussed this in session.

 

Charlotte knew that she had never truly gotten over Reid’s death, but Ric’s forced her to finally confront it. Death was inevitable but that didn’t mean that it was ever fair or kind in how and when it came.

 

Reid’s death had changed her. A deep scar on her soul that made her wary of chaos and things she couldn’t control. Unpredictability in others making her reflexively distant. Reminding her of how Reid had been in his later days and her inability to reign him in and fight his battles for him.

 

Knowing this was one thing, but accepting it and working on how it was affecting her present relationships was another.

 

For the first time in a while her father’s casket was clear of mourners and Charlotte walked up to the side. Staring down at the dark wood that would soon be beneath the ground. Losing herself in time. One hand simply resting against the edge as she stood still. Not really paying attention to how long she had been standing there when she heard two pairs of feet coming up behind her.

 

The ride to the cemetery had been subdued. Becky hopping in the passenger seat of Bayley’s tiny blue Toyota rental car as they both sat in almost complete silence.

 

Bayley hadn’t said anything when Becky had reached across the center console to rest her hand against the driver’s knee. Nor had she said anything when Becky had begun to unconsciously squeeze harder. Just reaching down with her own hand and gently pulling the fighter’s hand away. Silently offering her own hand in exchange for the knee.

 

Becky had continued to follow Bayley around once they got out. Standing in the cold next to the brunette as they waited for a good moment to say their goodbye’s.

 

Over some time Becky could feel her knee tightening up on her. A combination of the cold and standing on it for an unnatural amount of time today. Her attempts to cover up the discomfort slowly becoming less effective as she was forced to lean more and more of her weight on the left knee.

 

Spotting a moment to go pay their respects Becky started to pull Bayley forward but stopped when she saw Charlotte walk up. Not wanting to interrupt the blonde’s moment.

 

When she stopped herself Becky’s right knee decided it had finally had enough and she was forced to hop on her left foot to try and deal with the sudden stiffness in her right.

 

Her balance was a little off though and if not for Bayley being right next to her she probably would have tumbled to the ground.

 

“Stupid fucking knee.” Becky mumbled beneath her breath.

 

Bayley knew how sensitive Becky could be about showing any kind of weakness in front of others, especially in a public place like this. So she decided to try a tiny bit of humor to try and put the Irish woman at ease. “Yeah, say mean things to you knee...that will show it,” she said as she gave Becky’s hand a squeeze.

 

Becky appreciated the attempt at levity. “It’s just being stubborn. Doctor said there was no structural damage so it’s got no excuse for being lazy.” Giving a fraction of her normal grin as she tried to put weight back on it again. The stiffness still there though and making it feel like she was dragging a log from her hip.

 

Bayley just smiled understandingly. Squeezing Becky’s hand again she said: “You’re doing great, it’s barely noticeable.”

 

The constant reminders of their physical connection kept helping Becky from falling into her own thoughts and getting lost. “How long are you in town for?”

 

Bayley could feel Becky putting more and more weight on her so she was being extra careful as they walked while trying not to make it obvious to Becky. She knew her friend would hate being perceived as a burden. “Probably for a few days after the funeral, I want to try and be helpful to Charlotte if I can,” she said truthfully.

 

The news put a tiny smile on Becky’s face that she quickly hid. Feeling oddly guilty about being happy at such a somber event. “That’s cool.” Becky wasn’t so ready to try being helpful to Charlotte, but if Bayley wanted to do something it was probably the right thing to do. Begrudgingly the redhead looked over towards the blonde still standing next to the casket. “I know she probably needs someone to be there for her.” The unspoken assumption that it wasn’t going to be Becky inherent in the statement.

 

“I’m so sad for her…” Bayley said as she looked at Charlotte. She’d never seen the blonde looking so forlorn.

 

Becky didn’t know what to say. So, instead of saying anything she just squeezed the reporter’s hand and pulled her in closer to her side. Wrapping her arm around Bayley’s shoulders and offering as much comfort as she could. Starting to feel guilty about how much of Bayley’s attention she had taken.

 

“Ready to go?” Bayley asked the fighter.

 

“I’ll follow you.” Becky said. Her weight now leaning mostly on the other woman. “Don’t have much of a choice right now.”

 

Bayley smiled as she half led and half supported Becky forward toward the casket as another group of mourners stepped away. They were only a few feet away but Charlotte still hadn’t looked up at them. Closing the distance she cleared her throat and said: “Charlotte, I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

Charlotte shook out of her reverie for a moment and looked up. “Thanks… I’m glad you could make it.” Her hand never leaving contact with the wood.

 

Becky stood there awkwardly as Charlotte addressed Bayley. “I’m sorry too…” For what exactly she wasn’t sure. Although ‘for everything’ seemed like an appropriate wording.

 

The blonde quickly flicked her eyes towards Becky before they darted back down to the casket. A tiny hint of shame showing in them before she looked away. “Yeah…”

 

“Are you alone at home Char? If you like I’ll come over after and stay with you awhile maybe _traer algunas cervezas,”_ Bayley offered.

 

Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath before responding. “That would be nice.” It would have been much easier to just brush the brunette off, but Charlotte had come to realize that more often than not the easier path was only easier in the short term. “I’ll text you when I get back to my apartment.”

 

Bayley nodded before stepping forward, supporting Becky the whole way. When she looking down into the grave she said: “ _Yo los cuidaré por ti Ric, lo prometo.”_

 

With a quick sideways glance towards Charlotte, Becky sighed and looked down. Not trusting herself to say more she simply said, “Goodbye.” Not knowing if Charlotte would want her to say anything more.

 

For her part Charlotte hardly noticed what the other two were doing. Still stuck in her own little world as she looked down at another casket to add to her memory.

 

Sasha Banks had been hiding out from the rest of the funeral goers. She was still getting the sense of subdued hostility from many of them. As such she didn’t want to approach the casket with them around. That and, she didn’t want anyone else there anyway. She was a private person at heart, at least ‘Sasha’ was. The boss thrived on attention but oddly, it didn’t seem she’d made the trip.

 

As more and more of the crowd filtered away after giving Flair their condolences Sasha was preparing to emerge from the shadow of the tree she’d been standing beside when her heart stopped for a moment. Approaching the casket were Becky Lynch and Bayley, arm in arm, looking for all the world like a couple. This cut at Sasha deeply but she was able to maintain her composure enough to tell herself what she’d told herself at the church.

 

This was her fault.

 

She looked on for a few minutes as the three women at the casket exchanged some words that she couldn’t hear. But as more time went by she realized that Bayley and Lynch might not be leaving anytime soon. And she could see the grounds crew standing by to begin the actual burial.

 

Somehow what she was thinking of doing now was more daunting to her than a dozen MMA matches.

 

Swallowing hard Sasha adjusted her hat and then began to stride toward the casket.

 

Charlotte continued to stand still as she heard the two other women slowly turn around and prepare to leave. In all honesty Charlotte would prefer to be alone right now, but she was making a real effort to not force it. Another pair of feet crunched through the snow and Charlotte wondered who had waited so long before coming up. Almost everyone having left ten minutes ago, with just a handful of attendants hanging around.

 

Bayley happened to look up at the sound of the approaching footsteps in the snow. Expecting to find just another well wisher approaching the casket she froze when she saw who it was. The magenta hair was marker enough, even if Bayley hadn’t had those features burned into her heart forever.

 

Leaning against the brunette made it easy for Becky to feel when Bayley’s entire body seemed to suddenly stiffen out of nowhere. Her worried gaze rose quickly when she spotted a bright color in the corner of her eye that stood out against the drab white and gray that surrounded them.

 

She knew from old interviews that Bayley had been friendly with Banks in the past but had always steered away from the potentially awkward conversation. From the way she reacted to the sight of the other fighter Becky knew that whatever had happened between the two hadn’t been resolved adequately. Finally able to try and return some of the comfort Bayley had selflessly offered and rubbing her thumb gently along the tight knuckles she found. Not aware or caring if Sasha witnessed the small gesture.

 

Sasha thought her teeth might just shatter with how tightly she was clenching them. As she approached she suddenly found herself within arms reach of both Bayley and Lynch. One part of her wanted to reach out to Bayley, drop to her knees, and apologize to the heavens. Another wanted to lunge at Lynch and punch her face into oblivion. In the end she did neither of these things but simply kept her eyes straight ahead as she adjusted her hat to tilt downward, hiding her face from the other women.

 

A moment later they’d passed, though she knew the tension in her chest would not evaporate for a long time. Reaching the edge the grave she turned to catch Charlotte Flair’s eyes briefly. She gave the other woman a tight nod before she looked down into the grave, at the polished wooden box that contained the remains of a man who had done so much for her.

 

Reaching into her pocket she withdrew her ‘legit boss’ rings. The gleaming gold and diamonds still managing to sparkle despite the grey day. The rings were extremely valuable, custom pieces that cost as much together as a nice sedan. Sasha stared down at them in her hands for several long moments, thinking about what they meant and what they represented, and her last conversation with Ric Flair. Before the tossed them into the grave, almost flinching at the clattering as they hit the lid of the coffin.

 

“No more legit Boss Ric, like you said. Besides...you were always more of one than me,” she said quietly, before she turned and left without looking back.

 

Charlotte had stayed silent as she curiously watched the normally brash and arrogant woman strip away the ostentatious layer of jewelry and toss them down. She gave the woman the privacy she clearly wanted and looked back down.

 

Reaching into the pocket of her coat Charlotte pulled out her wallet and dug through. Pulling out a small scrap of paper and tossing it into the grave before finally turning away. Head held high as she sniffled just a bit. Blaming it on the cold weather.

 

Even though he hadn’t always been the greatest dad, Charlotte was proud to call Ric Flair her father. He wouldn’t want her to grieve. He would want her to be happy and live out her life. Be a better person that his early example.

 

She would try for him.

 

More importantly though, she would be a better person for herself.

 

**Becky**

 

It was only a day after the funeral but already the world seemed to be moving on.

 

Becky welcomed it to an extent. It was easier to not think about Ric when there was something to do. Which was why she hadn’t canceled the class she taught. Using the two hours as a solid distraction from her grief, but only serving to refocus her mind on her confusing feelings.

 

She walked gingerly on her still swollen knee. The brace she had on more for precaution than anything at this point. Striding by her students drilling a simple jab cross combo into a leg kick. Acting like she was watching them for corrections to their form when really she was fumbling over a question she had been asking herself for some time.

 

Should she try asking Bayley out on an actual date?

 

Becky had been content with their friendship but with the woman on the other side of the country the Irish woman had found herself desperately missing the calm that came when she was around the journalist. Retreating to her room to be alone more often than when Bayley was actually working at the gym.

 

After having to defend the relationship she had with Bayley so often Becky had started to question why it would be such a bad thing. She didn’t want to make Bayley’s life anymore complicated but even as just friends the press continued to annoy them both about it. Becky’s myriad of interviews proved that. Not to mention the few interviews Bayley had done. Mad on her behalf for having hosts ask her about their relationship rather than the amazing work Bayley did in the MMA space.

 

Recently though she had started to look at her differently.

 

She had seen the reporter very briefly during her last fight week. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t seen the other woman in nearly a month but Becky had been nervous to see her and when she finally did she felt a lightness to her soul that hadn’t been there since before she had won the title. Back when everything was so much simpler and life had actually made sense.

 

Becky was tired of being lonely and Bayley was the exact opposite of everything she used to look for in her partners. Stable, caring, friendly, attractive but not flaunting it at every opportunity. Someone who she could actually depend on for longer than one night of passion.

 

“Something on your mind?” Ruby gently asked as she walked past where Becky had been standing for some time now. Idly watching the students as they continued to drill.

 

Startled out of her reverie Becky blinked. “There is always something going on.”

 

“Anything in particular right now?”

 

Becky scratched the back of her neck for a moment. “Just thinking… Do you know how to tell if someone likes you?”

 

Ruby raised an eyebrow and raised her hands. “I’m not the person for this conversation. Why don’t you go call Bayley.” The blush that quickly covered Becky’s cheeks made it all too clear who the redhead was talking about. “Oh… Well… That’s something I didn’t expect. Figured you and Charlotte had some weird thing going on.”

 

“Well we don’t!” Becky bit out harshly. Immediately regretting lashing out so quickly. That was just more of the old Becky showing through. A reminder that she wasn’t so far removed from her own dark period. “Sorry… I’m just stressed.”

 

“Of course you are. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just was a little surprised.”

 

“This still isn’t helping me. She’s going to be in town for a bit longer and I don’t want to come across like I’m crazy.”

 

Becky felt a tiny pressure at her hip and turned around. Lowering her gaze till she saw Lizzie at her hip. “My mom told me that if you like someone you should tell them or else you will always regret it.”

 

Becky was stunned into silence which prompted Ruby to smile down at Lizzie and respond. “Your mother is a smart lady.”

 

Once the class had ended Becky thought back on the simple but powerful words a literal child had thrown her way.

 

Looking over at the clock Becky knew that while it was late, Bayley would likely still be awake.

 

She picked up her phone and stared at it for a moment before quickly hitting the call button next to Bayley’s name before she could stop herself. Reaching the point of no return when it began to ring.

 

On the fifth ring the call was finally picked up and Becky took a deep breath. “Hey.”

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

For what may have been the fiftieth time that night Becky ran a hand through her hair even though she knew it looked fine.

 

The elevator ride to Bayley’s hotel floor seemed to be taking abnormally long and added to the nervous energy that seemed ready to burst out of her.

 

The side of the elevator was glass and Becky took a peak at her reflection. A fashionable pair of black jeans and warm boots. Topped with her leather jacket and a pristine white shirt that Becky had dug through her clothes for nearly thirty minutes to find.

 

She thought she looked decent and nonchalant. Not trying to make this into a bigger deal even though Becky hadn’t been able to think of anything else since their brief conversation.

 

Becky had started off a little stiff but quickly tried to roll out her normal charm even though Bayley had always seen right through it.

 

She tried to hide her fear of rejection by acting overly confident. Telling Bayley that she deserved to have a special night and that Becky was going to make sure she got it. She had been a little put off by the laughter and quick self-deprecating comment she got in return, but Becky quickly reaffirmed that she really meant it. Allowing her mask to fall and make sure Bayley knew she was serious about having a special night with just the two of them.

 

When Bayley had accepted Becky had felt on top of the world. Nearly hanging up in her elation before nervously chuckling as she told the other woman that she would meet her around nine at night. Purposefully keeping where she would take the reporter as a secret. Playfully dancing around the question Bayley’s journalistic nature brought.

 

Now that she was actually about to take Bayley on a real date that the other woman actually agreed to Becky remembered that she hadn’t really been on an actual date for some time.

 

Carmella had never really been the type for dates. Unless you count going to a club when they were both already drunk or high as a date.

 

Now that she was outside of the hotel room Becky found herself hesitating to knock. “You can do this. You’re Becky Lynch. It’s just Bayley. She agreed to the date, so she can’t be worried.” Slowly taking in several deep breaths before she knocked on the door. “I’ve got this.” Becky muttered to herself. “I’ve got this.” She repeated. Trying to convince herself despite the tiny sinister voice in her head that was always there spouting off negativity and doubt.

 

As footsteps slowly came closer to the door Becky stood up straighter and ran a hand through her hair.

 

Of all the things Becky was uncertain of, the only thing in her life she was sure of was that Bayley deserved the best of life. Too kind for her own good and seemingly the only person willing to see through her past and speak to the who she was beneath it all.

 

She had already made Becky a better person just by being in her life for a short time. Even if they both go into this date and come out of it not wanting to continue Becky knew that Bayley wouldn’t abandon her.

 

When the door finally started opening Becky took a quick inhale and pulled the small package she had from behind her back. Plastering a smile on her face that quickly turned genuine as the door opened further.

 

Once again overcome with the joy that being near Bayley brought, Becky couldn’t help but want this to work out. Feeling like a hiker lost in the cold wilderness coming upon a fire. Never wanting to feel that cold again. Content to just sit next to the comforting fire and let its warmth soothe her.

 

The journalist in Bayley had been stewing for several hours now. Part of being a good reporter was being innately curious, but this also left one feeling VERY unhappy when someone denied you an answer. Not know what Becky was planning had been eating at Bayley...in a pleasant sort of way.

 

Knowing what she did of the Irish fighter she’d felt safe in assuming they wouldn’t be going anywhere with a Michelin star, so she’d just thrown on some old jeans and a hoody. She was just pulling her hair up into its trademark side pony when she heard the knock on her hotel door. Smiling to herself and feeling happier than she probably should have so soon after a funeral Bayley walked over to the door and opened it.

 

“Hey Becky-...wow…” Bayley said, cutting of the sarcastic remark she’d been preparing as she looked at her friend. Becky looked...great, more put together than Bayley had ever seen her. She wasn’t counting the interviews she’d seen the fighter do since she’d been under the authority of Alexa Bliss. Becky could definitely rock a dress but it never looked natural. Her current ensemble seemed to only highlight her natural good looks.

 

Becky smile turned into a grin, but rather than commenting on the look Bayley had given her she held out the tiny package in her hand. “Hey, Bayley. Got you a little something.”

 

Bayley’s face broke into a grin as she took the small package. Looking at the simple cardboard and twine affair her smile turned mischievous as she said: “This must have taken hours to wrap.”

 

“I sort of ran out of time.” At Bayley’s skeptical look Becky conceded. “I may have also been indecisive.” Her nerves showing just a bit. Unsure how exactly the reporter would react to the gift.

 

Bayley wasn’t going to let her friend off that easily however, so as she opened the box she went on saying: “Well little Miss ‘I’ve recently taken home two winners purses’ you really splurged on the packaging I have to-” She froze as she looked at what was inside the box. Nestled in tissue paper was a small bronze chip, about the size of a poker chip. On the front of it was a large ‘4’.

 

Bayley had been close with people in the program, she knew what this was.

 

Looking up at Becky with a stunned expression she asked: “Are you...are you sure?”

 

“If it wasn’t for you that would have been the last one I got… So, yeah. I’m sure.” Becky honestly answered. Holding Bayley’s gaze before she shyly rubbed at the back of her neck and averted her eyes. “If it’s too much I can take it back. I don’t want you to… you know… uhh… feel obligated or something.”

 

“Quiet you,” Bayley said, beaming as she turned around and held her hair to one side. “Help me will you?” she asked.

 

Becky grabbed the necklace from the other woman and stepped behind her. Carefully slipping the silver chain around her neck as she tried to control her soaring nerves. “All set,” Becky said when she was finally done. The clasp giving her fingers trouble for longer than she would have liked. “Looks a lot better on you anyway. The bronze really clashes with the Irish skin.”

 

 _“¿Eso fue racista? Tal vez, pero fue dulce, así que estoy bien con eso,”_ Bayley said before turning around and kissing Becky on the cheek. “Let me run this box in there and we’ll go OK?” she said happily as she vanished into her hotel room.

 

Becky stood there with a stupid grin on her face. Pleased that everything seemed to be going smoothly so far. When Bayley returned Becky held out her arm in a sincere attempt at chivalry. “All ready?”

 

Bayley laughed and slid her arm through Becky’s. Putting on her best southern belle accent she said: “Why thank you, ma’am.” Then she waggled her eyebrows at Becky and said: “Bet you can’t can’t do that accent Irish girl.”

 

“I would attempt it if I wanted to look like a fool, but I think I will pass on that tonight.” With a wide smile, Becky walked them down to the elevator. “I’ve got different plans that don’t involve you laughing at me.”

 

Bayley made a skeptical sound as she declared: “Like you could ever stop me laughing at you.”

 

“You make a good point. Doesn’t mean I can’t try and give you fewer reasons.” Pressing the button for the elevator to go back down. “Hope you are ready to walk. Should only be a few minutes though.”

 

Bayley blinked at this. “You know…” she said “...as social plans go, NOT a strong start Lynch.” she looked down then and said: “Thank god I didn’t dress up.”

 

“It will be worth it. I promise.” Becky said while giving Bayley her best charming look. “You look great. I wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t said anything.”

 

Bayley struck a few faux fierce poses before theatrically flipping her hair. “So I know that YOU know how much the ambiguity is annoying me. Can I at least get a hint of where we are going? Is this some bizarrely friendly kidnapping?” she said as she looked out the side of the elevator.

 

Becky snickered. “I can assure you this is no kidnapping. Unless you want it to be?” Pausing for a moment as Bayley gave her an unamused look. “Alright. No kidnapping. Got it. I already dropped the hint anyway. Don’t blame me for you not catching it.”

 

Bayley’s brow furrowed as she was scanning back through every word she’d exchanged with Becky since their phone call. She’d thought nothing of the brief call at the time, it had just been her friend asking if she wanted to hang out. But not she was wondering if Becky’s mysterious ‘clue’ had been that far back. As she thought she looked over at Becky and scowled saying: “You KNOW that’s going to drive me crazy.”

 

“I do.” Smirk firmly in place as the elevator opened. “You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.”

 

The elevator ride down was quick and Becky swiftly took them towards the doors leading outside. Sliding forward so that she could hold the door open with one of her usual overly charming smiles.

 

“Ladies first.”

 

Bayley gave a theatrical inclination of her head and a deep knee bend before proceeding Becky out into the lobby. Then she looked over her shoulder and said: “The problem with that plan is that the person in the lead is the one who doesn’t know where she’s going.”

 

“No one would ever accuse me of thinking things through too much.” Becky quipped as she followed. “Don’t worry my lady. I will lead us to our destination.” Her voice filled with faux seriousness. “Sir Becky will keep you safe from the common rabble.”

 

Bayley pretended to faint away before speaking in a high pitched trill and saying: “Oh thank you so much my champion!” Then she ruined it by dissolving into giggles and having to lean against Becky as she led the way.

 

Becky enjoyed having Bayley so close. Her nerves seeming to go away as she and Bayley fell into their old ease.

 

She steered them carefully through the streets. Going off memory for directions.

 

“Almost there,” Becky said once they were just about to turn the corner. Knowing that once they did Bayley would immediately realize where they were going.

 

“You know if you’d just pitched this as ‘hiking’ it would have been more honest,” Bayley grumbled, but in a friendly way. Truthfully she was just enjoying spending time with her friend. After the sadness of the funeral it was nice to be able to focus on life again, rather than death.

 

“Well like any good hike I suppose there needs to be a final destination,” Becky answered with a rush of adrenaline as they turned the corner. The old coffee shop they had their first real conversation looming in the distance. “Ta-da!”

 

“ _Aye dios mio,”_ Bayley laughed as she saw the sign. She couldn’t help it, a big dumb grin spread across her face as she turned to Becky. “You are such a dork you know that?” she said rested her head on Becky’s shoulder. Then she brightened and said: “I wonder if it will be Dave again! I’m sure he has so much to NOT talk about with us!”

 

Becky laughed and let her head tilt to gently sit on top of Bayley’s. Enjoying the closeness she had felt deprived of for so long. “I may have called ahead. It’s amazing what people are willing to do when you throw some money around.”

 

Bayley giggled. “Oh yeah? What’s the VIP section like in a crummy coffee shop? Do they have bottle service? Unlimited mud flavored coffee?” she asked teasingly as they approached the place where their friendship had begun. Bayley was actually really touched by this gesture on Becky’s part. It also confirmed something she’d suspected for a long time, that she was a really a sweetheart and MAYBE a hopeless romantic.

 

The ridiculous suggestions made Becky shake her head. “Why don’t you take a look for yourself.” Opening the front door and ushering Bayley inside. The interior looking exactly the same as it had last time, complete with no other customers inside. “Dave was kind enough to close the shop early for us.” The lights just a tad dimmer than before. Extra light being provided by a single candle that was on each table. Rubbing her palms together as Bayley walked inside and looked around. “It might not be a VIP section but it’s something. Payback for everything you’ve given me.” The nerves coming back as she waited for Bayley’s reaction.

 

Bayley gaped around at the dramatic transformation evident in front of her eyes. Then what Becky had just said caught up with her and she frowned. “You don’t owe me anything Becky,” she said before turning to smile at the candles again. As she looked around she said: “I can’t believe you did this for us.”

 

“It wasn’t that much really. And I paid people to do it. How about we just sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee. I can guarantee it will be much better this time around. I made sure of it.” Becky swept past Bayley and walked back to the same table they had sat at last time. Pulling out a chair and waiting on her guest.

 

“Thanks,” Bayley said happily. She was still smiling but something was nagging at the back of her mind as she sat down. Something about the situation was hitting her oddly, but she couldn’t articulate it yet. “Well, I guess I’ll take one cup of coffee then,” she said brightly.

 

“Dave’s already on it. I texted him while we were walking over.” Becky smiled and gestured towards the chair she was still holding onto. “Come on and sit down. Don’t make me lose points already.”

 

Bayley sat, looking around the restaurant once more before she made herself smile again and watched as Becky sat down. Thinking that she saw her friend wince she was reminded of something she’d said that night so long ago. “How’s the hinge?” she asked, knowing Becky would pick up on the reference.

 

“Better. After a bit of rest and ice at least.” Smiling softly at the reminder. Now that they both were sitting Becky suddenly couldn’t figure out what she wanted to say. Every thought that came to her quickly analyzed and found lacking. Her silence stretching on till she just said something. “I’m glad you came.” Surprising herself with the burst of honesty.

 

Bayley frowned at the sudden change in Becky’s energy. The fighter seemed to be nervous suddenly, and Bayley was beginning to suspect she might know the reason why. She wasn’t sure yet and didn’t want to assume because her guess would be...cataclysmic. So, she made forced another smile and said: “So am I, but you weren’t so happy with me the first time we came here.”

 

“Well, obviously the circumstances are a bit different,” Becky said with a crooked smile.

 

“I’m no longer ‘the enemy’?” Bayley joked, even as her brain worked furiously.

 

Becky blushed a bit at the reminder of her little outburst back then. “That was not one of my finer moments. I wasn’t really in a good mindset. Seems obvious now though. You couldn’t be an ‘enemy’ if you tried.”

 

“What if I I was nice to Alexa in front of you?” Bayley asked lightly, now she was just cracking jokes as a means of trading space for time. She really hoped she was wrong but she thought she now knew what Becky had been thinking in bringing her here.

 

“I’ll call your bluff. There’s no way you could last more than thirty seconds before cutting off your own ears.” Becky joked back. “Which you shouldn’t do by the way. I like them just where they are. Who else would listen to me at two in the morning?”

 

Bayley decided on a small test. “Is that the kind of question you ask on first dates?” she asked, casually.

 

“Not usually.” Becky winked. “Although it normally doesn’t come up in casual conversation.”

 

Bust, Bayley thought. “Ear removal? Really? I talk about it all the time,” she said, in a forced cheery tone.

 

“I’m sure.” Becky rolled her eyes. Resting her hand on the table next to Bayley’s hand. Not encroaching yet, but rather just being close.

 

Dave came out with their cups of coffee and placed them down with his customary silence. Barely even giving the two a glance before walking off and disappearing.

 

“Nice guy.” The redhead dryly joked with a wide smile. Her hand sneaking a little bit closer as she tested the waters. Not wanting to overstep with the woman she cared about more than she was willing to admit.

 

“Yeah, a real charmer…” Bayley said with a smile, though she was very distracted. She’d noticed where Becky’s hand was. She swallowed as she realized the situation she was in, and what it meant.

 

How the hell did this keep happening?

 

Bayley racked her brain trying to think of some sort of graceful way to escape from what was evidently a date in Becky’s eyes. Bayley loved Becky very much but she wasn’t IN love with her. But she also knew just how hard it would have been for the Irish woman to arrange all of this, to allow herself to be this vulnerable.

 

And she knew what would happen if she came up short.

 

Horrific visions of a relapsing Becky, or worse, danced in Bayley’s head. Could she just try the fake text or phone call thing? She did have her phone in her pocket. Or maybe she could...just go on a few dates with the fighter and hope she’d lose interest? But no, she thought, both would not only be unfair to Becky but beyond disrespectful. Becky deserved the truth if she was to get anything at all. But that didn’t mean Bayley had any idea how she was going to tell her friend.

 

“So how are things at the gym?” Bayley asked, subtly sliding her own hand a centimeters away from Becky’s.

 

It was obvious that Bayley was trying to be subtle about it but Becky noticed the small but telling reaction to her movement. She not as subtly pulled her own hand back to her edge of the table. “Uhh… They’re good as they can be. Umm… Got some new students. Haven’t been able to do much with my knee though. Ruby had to do most of the work for me.”

 

“Good I- I mean that’s not good but I’m glad you're staying busy and...and that Ruby is too obviously,” Bayley fumbled for words and could just feel the whole evening tilting against her. She sounded like a 14-year-old on her first date.

 

Bayley’s sudden fumbling made Becky’s anxiety start to steadily rise. Becky thought everything had been going so well despite a few small fumbles that were to be expected after going so long without having a real date. “You alright?” She asked with a forced light tone even though Becky was scared of what the answer was. A matching forced smile that came out more like a grimace. Had she come on too strong?

 

Bayley’s smile was an act of herculean effort at this moment. She looked around once, her eyes flying from point to point as though seeking an escape route. But, she’d just told herself Becky deserved the truth. Closing her eyes and pursed her lips and counted to three before she asked, without opening them: “Becky...are...are we on a date?”

 

Of all the potential horrible responses she had pictured this hadn’t been one of them. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before her mind finally caught up. “Did you… not think that?”

 

“I…” Bayley started to say but for once, the woman who made her living with words, couldn’t find one. She tried again and still found nothing. She could feel her whole body beginning to tense but she couldn’t make herself speak.

 

Becky realized what the silence met. Pulling both her hands back to her lap and rubbing her sweaty palms on her thighs. “Well… That is umm nice to know.” Slowly pushing her chair backward. “Certainly saves me from digging myself deeper.” Becky joked in an overly cheery tone. Forcing herself to smile and try and act as unaffected as possible. Not wanting the other woman to feel guilty for something outside of her control.

 

“Becky, it’s fine! Really, I just...I just wanted to know so…” Bayley started to say but even as she spoke she knew that things had moved beyond her ability to repair with words.

 

A tiny flicker of hope that she had misread this situation once again came back at Bayley’s words. “Are you alright if this is?” She hesitantly asked.

 

Bayley’s heart spiraled further downward as she realized what she’d done. “ Becky...I...I love you but…” she started to say but the idea simply wouldn’t find expression on her tongue. Even more infuriatingly she could feel moisture forming at the corner of her eyes.

 

Just like that, any hope Becky had was gone. It was difficult to do, but she continued to try and act as unaffected as possible. Even though she wanted the floor to somehow swallow her whole so she could vanish from this utterly humiliating moment. “I get it. I get it…” Becky noticed the beginning of tears in Bayley’s eyes and felt her heart constrict. Her instincts of self-preservation clashing with the instinct to keep the other woman away from feeling bad. Making her feel guilty on top of everything. “Don’t cry. It’s not your fault. I get it.”

 

Bayley was feeling like she could lose the battle with her own tears any moment but she reached for Becky’s hand saying: “Becky...I’m sorry I just-...you’re so great and I-”

 

Becky felt like laughing even though there was nothing humorous about this. This whole thing feeling like some big prank she had unwittingly played on herself. As soon as Bayley said the word ‘great’ Becky was standing up. Sending the wooden chair skittering across the floor in her hurry to stand.

 

She knew what was coming. Bayley was going to show pity and try and let her down softly.

 

Becky felt exposed like a live electrical wire. Fearful that the longer she stayed near Bayley the more likely it was that she accidentally went off the woman who didn’t deserve it. “Obviously not great enough.” She mumbled already retreating from the table, “You don’t need to explain yourself.”

 

“Becky!” Bayley said as she stood, but she didn’t have a fighter’s reflexes and she reached for her Becky, the other woman easily avoided her hand. “Becky, please!” Bayley called to the woman’s back. First Sasha and now Becky...what was wrong with her?

 

Becky ignored the pleas and continued on out the front door. Running on autopilot and knowing that staying in there would only mean more pain so it would be best to just avoid. She had kept a relatively normal pace until she was outside where once she cleared the windows of the coffee shop Becky started to run. Not with any particular destination in mind, but just wanting to get far away and find a secluded place to lick her wounds.

 

Bayley snatched up her coat and tried to catch Becky but by the time she made it out the door all she could see of her friend was a fast retreating mane of red hair. Not caring that there were other people on the street she shouted: “BECKY!”

 

Becky never looked back.

 

And this left with Bayley standing in front of a dumpy little coffee shop, with tears running down her cheeks and ashes in her gut. As she stood there, she felt like she had just lost her friend.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man this one took a long time to get done and even LONGER to post because F*** you A03 and your constant crashing!...also a LOT of stuff happening in this chapter.
> 
> Before we get to today's chapter please forgive me as I indulge in some shameless self-promotion! I had the privilege recently to be part of launching a new series called "The Horsewomen of Pokemon". That's right friends! It's the AU you don't need but I think you'll come to realize you REALLY want, once you read it. It follows a much younger group of Horsewomen as they being their Pokemon journeys! Find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1282970
> 
> OK onto today's chapter!
> 
> As I said, a TON happened today didn't it? 
> 
> Charlotte, that poor girl. She really didn't need any more stress, did she? But I suspect she has a better friend than she deserves in Bayley. In fact, do any of the other Horsewomen really deserve the hugger? How will Charlotte bounce back though?
> 
> Becky, Becky, Becky...just as the Man seems to be growing and being more comfortable with herself the mouse trap snaps shut! Was there anything she could have done different here? Will she be able to deal? Or is our girl heading for a crash?
> 
> Weird as it is to say...did the Boss have the most positive chapter for once? Is Sasha actually showing some personal growth and awareness? If she is...can she keep it up? Or will the boss be back soon? 
> 
> Bayley...my poor hugger. First Sasha, then Charlotte (temporarily), and now Becky. Relationships seem to implode around her don't they? And yet she works harder on them than anyone. What will she do next? What can she do?
> 
> CLEX! It seems like your girls all need you!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


	11. Chapter 11: Dealing (Or not)

**Becky**

 

Surprise filled Becky’s eyes. Her own brown eyes reflecting back at her from the cracked mirror. A tiny smattering of red at the epicenter of a spider web in fractured glass.

 

Without bothering to do anything about it, the redhead turned and walked out of the washroom. Shutting off the light and leaving the cracked glass behind. Out of sight, out of mind.

 

As she shuffled back into her room at the gym Becky lazily looked around her room. Settling on a marginally clean sock and wiping away the blood that flowed from a tiny cut on her knuckle.

 

Becky sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled out her phone. Ignoring the notification of a new message and scrolling through her contacts. Knowing who it would be and not wanting to deal with it.

 

After finding the number she was looking for her finger quickly pressed the call button. Putting the phone on speaker and dropping her head into her free hand. Eyes closing tighter with each ring that went unanswered.

 

An odd combination of relief and frustration when no one answered. The voicemail message filling the empty room and making Becky feel even worse. Something she hadn’t been sure was possible until hearing her voice.

 

_“Hey! You’ve reached Carmella! I must be having a fabulous time right now so just leave a message and I--”_

 

Becky swiftly hit the end call button.

 

Maybe Carmella not answering was actually for the best. As she was making the call Becky felt unclean. Still feeling the lingering self-loathing. Disappointment in herself rising steadily.

 

What would she have done had Carmella actually answered?

 

The redhead wished she didn’t know the answer, but she wasn’t calling to simply say hello.

 

She had been, and still was looking for a distraction. Something to throw herself into for an escape.

 

The anger built until Becky’s grip around the phone tightened. Her arm rising into position to hurl the electronic device against the wall when the sudden chirping of her ringtone got her to stop the throwing motion.

 

She brought the phone down and peered at the name that was calling. Of course, Bayley would call her after she ignored the texts. Becky should have guessed this was coming.

 

With a heavy heart, she declined the call. Typing out a quick message, _“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”_ and sending it off in hopes the other woman would accept such a meager offering, and leave her alone.

 

Rather than leaving it up to Bayley to not try contacting her anymore Becky powered down her phone and tossed it on the other side of her bed.

 

Not bothering to take off any of the clothes she had carefully picked out, Becky laid down on top of her sheets and let her head rest on the pillow. Closing her eyes and trying to force sleep. A part of her hoping that this whole night had been a bad dream. That she hadn’t just made a fool of herself and alienated the only person that seemed to always be in her corner. Even when she didn’t deserve it.

 

Becky knew that Bayley wouldn’t just let this go and her mind continued to constantly buzz in thought. Any actual sleep feeling impossible with her brain running constantly yet never really getting anywhere. Worrying about the same thing for nearly an hour without making any real progress.

 

A growl of frustration and grief filled the room. Becky pushing herself up off the bed. Grabbing her phone and keys before walking out through the gym. Uncaring of the fact that she had a light training session with Bobby in ten hours.

 

It was only a little after one in the morning. Plenty of time to find a distraction.

 

**Bayley**

 

One could call Bayley Martinez a worrier with some justice. At least when it came to her relationships with others, she did tend to worry. But how she was feeling right now was well past that. How she feeling now was to worry what a hurricane was to a gentle summer’s breeze.

 

Bayley was scared.

 

She wasn’t scared for herself, she was scared for her friend. She was terrified in fact. She was terrified that somewhere out there right now Becky Lynch was alone. And she would be alone, Bayley was certain of that. Becky wouldn’t be seeking a shoulder to cry on in this situation, she’d be trying to hide from the pain.

 

What she did when that inevitably didn’t work was what had Bayley so scared.

 

She’d already helped talk Becky back from the ledge twice. Two times Becky had been in danger of slipping back into her old destructive patterns and both times Bayley had, somehow, managed to help her back. Bayley didn’t consider herself any kind of expert at this sort of stuff, so she was just profoundly grateful she’d gotten lucky.

 

But now it seemed that luck had run out.

 

Ever since the disaster of their ‘date’, Bayley had been trying desperately to reach Becky. Texting, calling, even showing up at the gym. Nothing had worked. She wanted to tell her friend so many things right now. She wanted to assure Becky that everything was fine, that nothing had to change, that it wasn’t a big deal. Except it was a big deal and she knew it.

 

Becky Lynch, who had for so long been living in a kind of emotional bunker, had reached out. Maybe the first time since she’d been a child that the Irish woman had really done so. And she’d had her hand burned in one of the most painful ways there was. Burned by a woman she’d considered a close friend.

 

Burned by Bayley.

 

This recollection was enough to bring tears to Bayley’s eyes. The expression that had slowly spread across Becky’s face as the Irish woman had realized what was going on, was one that Bayley thought would haunt her forever. And it was the knowledge that she had caused all the pain that was tearing at Bayley’s heart.

 

What was wrong with her? Becky was a beautiful, funny, and (in her own way) caring person. Why couldn’t Bayley just be the woman that Becky wanted her to be? Would it be so bad to be with Becky? To be with your best friend?

 

But her heart always provided her with the same, decidedly negative, answer.

 

Becky deserved someone who was in love with her as much as she was with them. Not someone who was forced to cudgel her heart and head into the relationship.

 

But none of this did anything to assuage her guilt or quiet her fears.

 

Taking out her phone again, Bayley dialed Becky and waited. There was no answer, of course, so she waited for voicemail. “Hey, Becky...I...I just wanted to check on you. Tell you again how sorry I am and that I really hope we can stay friends. But even if you never want to speak to me again, please…PLEASE, Becky, just...tell me you’re OK. I just want to know that you’re safe, I love you.” Bayley hung up after leaving this message and put a hand over her eyes.

 

After a few moments she lifted her phone again and composed a text before sending it off to the Irish woman. It read: “Think about it.”

 

Without any other recourse, Bayley Martinez settled in for a long night of waiting for her phone to buzz. She just hoped that if it did, it would be her friend on the line and not someone telling her about what had happened. Wherever Becky was that night, Bayley just hoped she would think about it.

 

**Becky**

 

It had taken a while but Becky had finally found a place that seemed quiet and off the beaten path. The small amount of souls still up at this time on a weekday content to sit by themselves and not bother the woman sitting by herself at the far end of the bar.

 

Two glasses of dark brown liquid in front of her. One, half empty and the other still full. The bartender raising an eyebrow when she had asked for a diet coke and rum in separate glasses but following her order nonetheless.

 

She had tried walking into some club to try and quickly pick up a warm body that could help distract her for a time but had immediately been turned away by the loud bass and loud atmosphere. There had been a time when that wouldn’t have bothered Becky but she seemed to have lost any tolerance built up prior.

 

Picking up the half-empty glass the redhead took another sip. The artificial taste and caffeine bitter against her tongue. The glass making a small noise as it returned to the counter. Becky’s eyes moving over to the other glass and looking at it with a morbid curiosity.

 

‘It’s just one drink. I can handle it. Now that I know its a problem I will be able to stop. My only real problem was drinking too much. I can drink responsibly though.’

 

Even though these thoughts dominated Becky’s mind something held her back from just draining the glass of liquor.

 

Regret, sadness and an all too familiar loneliness combining to grow in her gut from seeds that had been planted long ago and never been fully extracted.

 

Becky knew what was going to happen. Bayley would apologize profusely and do everything in her power to make Becky feel better about it. Try to convince her that it was no big deal and that they can get past this. Probably give her a line about how Bayley will always be her friend and be there if she needs to talk… But it would all be bullshit. Bayley would go back to California and inevitably the awkwardness would make the brunette less inclined to contact her. No doubt she would try and overcompensate at first by calling Becky consistently, acting as if everything could just go back to the way it was before.

 

Sudden realization swept through Becky and she pulled out her phone. Hitting the power button and turning the device back on. Quickly hitting ignore on the notifications she was inundated with and opening her email. Scrolling down till she found what she looking for.

 

With a few swipes, her finger hovered over the screen. Becky wistfully looking down for a moment before she canceled the flight. Sure that the woman would be able to get some use out of them even without her being there. Shutting the phone right back off and putting it in her pocket.

 

Becky stared blankly at the wooden counter for a minute. Trying to wrangle her thoughts but finding them impossible to corral and control.

 

Her hand inched closer and picked up the full glass. Abruptly tilting it back and allowing just a small amount of the bitter liquid to rush down her throat. The old familiarity of its taste a forgotten friend that you found yourself smiling at despite knowing why you forgot them.

 

The newly half empty glass hit the counter with more force than Becky intended. A loud clang making the other occupants briefly look her way before returning to whatever they were doing.

 

In that moment Becky hated herself. Wanting to push the liquid away but instead draining the rest.

 

Letting the empty glass gently back down and becoming still. Frozen in time. Unaware of how much of it passed before she felt someone approaching.

 

**Sasha/Becky**

 

“You’re in the wrong place,” Sasha Banks said as she sat in the stool next to Becky Lynch. Sat next to the woman that, bizarrely, could be both credited with and blamed for all the monumental changes that had occurred in Sasha’s life in recent times.

 

Junkyard Dog’s was a dingy little shit hole of a dive tucked away among several traditionally black neighborhoods in Boston. Sasha’s own father had loved the place and had even brought her there for Shirley Temples when he’d been alive. But that had been a long time and Sasha hadn’t been there for years and years. Yet spurred by some impulse that evening Sasha had decided to take advantage of her last night in Boston to visit.

 

At first, the bar's patrons had been excited and a little suspicious to have an honest to god celebrity in their midst. But the affection had become more genuine when it had been recalled that Sasha was FROM this area. Sasha had done her best to be gracious, part of her new leaf, but eventually, her wish to be alone had communicated itself to the others and she’d been left in solitude in a corner booth.

 

She’d been there for almost three hours drinking terrible beer and feeling sorry for herself. This was something she did quite often when she drank. Making matters worse, with every sip she could imagine the expression Bayley would give her if she could see her now. This wasn’t enough to make her stop, but it was enough to make her feel, if possible, even worse.

 

She hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else in the bar except for a younger woman who had been there earlier. But the girl had left a while ago leaving Sasha alone with her beer and brooding. Then she’d heard a loud clunking sound from the bar, the sound of glassware being set down too hard, and, like all the other drinkers, had turned to look.

 

It could have been almost anyone else at the bar, and she would have been less surprised. And probably less annoyed. The red hair, black jacket, and strong frame were unmistakable.

 

Had she been sober Sasha would probably have ignored Lynch, or even just insulted her from where she sat. She knew the bar would have her back. Instead, she lurched unsteadily to her feet and nearly tipped over. Grabbing hold of the booth until the room came to a complete stop, she walked over to the bar as purposefully as a drunk person in heeled boots could manage.

 

Nodding at the bartender over Lynch’s unsuspecting shoulder and making a ‘give me another’ gesture she sat heavily next to the Irish woman and said: “You’re in the wrong place.”

 

Becky turned to confirm what she already knew from sound alone. Her state of mind not improving any. “Are you the hostess?” Throwing Banks’ own words back at her. “I can go where I please.”

 

“Maybe I'm just not as blind as you,” Sasha said dryly as she waited for her drink.

 

“Start making sense.” The redhead fired back. Genuinely confused by the comment. Paying far more attention to the thoughts in her head then what she had walked into.

 

Sasha snorted as her drink arrived. “What do you have, that I have half of, and no one else in the bar has?” Riddling was a new development for her drunk behavior but Sasha supposed it could have been the beer.

 

Becky took a moment to actually take in her surroundings. Quickly noticing the odd stares she was getting and putting two and two together. “I don’t see color.” She mumbled. Not wanting to admit she simply hadn’t been paying to where she had been walking tonight.

 

Sasha’s snort was MUCH more pronounced now as she took a deep pull from her drink. When she resurfaced she said: “OK, whatever you say Taylor Swift.”

 

The irony was too hard to unsee. “That’s low. Even for you. Though I could probably give the girl a few song ideas.” Her tongue loosening as the first alcohol in over six months hit her system. Sizing up the woman to her right and grinning. Her old persona coming back out. “So what’s a girl like you doing out all alone?” Raising an eyebrow before continuing. “Where’s the cameras and the entourage?”

 

Any number of acidic retorts suggested themselves to Sasha. But maybe it was the booze or maybe it was her new clarity, either way, she didn’t say any of them. Instead, she settled on: “Camera’s stayed with my... “ she almost said ‘fiance’ here but couldn’t manage it “...The woman I have sex with. And I’m guessing we’re both here for the same reasons.”

 

Becky tried to get the bartender’s attention. “Classy…” she muttered. Her fingers drumming against the bar as she cursed her luck. Sasha Banks being the last person she wanted to speak to after the night she had so far. “I highly doubt we are here for the **exact** same reason tonight.”

 

Sasha looked sideways at Lynch for a while before she shrugged. “You know, there are probably about seven BILLION other people on this planet I’d rather be talking to right now, but you’re here. So try me,” she said as drained a good five ounces of beer.

 

To her own shock, Becky found herself considering it. The fresh glass set in front of her remaining untouched as she peered into the amber liquid. She knew that there would be consequences for what she was doing but she couldn’t care right now. That was a problem for the future. A small bitter laugh escaping her. “I made a mistake. Thought something was there and made a fool of myself.” Flashes of their last fight taunting her. “Seems to be a pattern.”

 

Sasha considered the Irish fighter’s words for a while. “We both know someone who would tell us how to deal with the mistakes we’re both trying to drown,” she finally said, though in a voice so laden with regret that she barely recognized it. The truth was that person wouldn’t approve of a single thing happening this evening.

 

Part of Becky wasn’t sure to cry, scream or laugh at Sasha’s implication. Unknowingly hitting the mark. “I’m sure she would…” Becky thought about the messages on her phone that were ignored and tried to justify it to herself. Her voice sounding more gravely than usual from the burn in her throat. Quickly downing the entire glass as soon it was in front of her. Guilt over how she knew Bayley would feel if she knew what was happening right now making her feel even worse. “What she doesn’t know…”

 

A bitter bark of laughter escaped Sasha’s lips at that. It felt strange to say but she felt as though there was almost a connection between them based on nothing but the shared experience of knowing Bayley. And, perhaps, of being her reclamation projects. This was a sobering thought.

 

Was Sasha ready to really start doing what she’d told herself she would? Was she ready to start acting like Bayley would?

 

Maybe

 

Even as she motioned for the bartender to bring them both drinks she asked: “I thought I saw on TV you were sober these days?”

 

Becky flinched at the reminder. Swallowing against the lump in her throat the simple question brought. “I was.” She stated, just trying to ignore the shame creeping up on her. The buzz of alcohol helping silence some of it for the time being.

 

Sasha might have been drunk, and a generally insensitive person, but even she didn’t miss this cue. Putting aside Bayley, she knew most people in the world would have tried to offer comfort at this moment. Yet somehow Sasha’s first instinct was to pounce on this weakness as though she’d seen Lynch start to limp in the cage. She suppressed this quickly but then was pulled under by a riptide of shame. What kind of person did that make her?

 

For lack of anything else to do she ordered another drink and asked: “Boston isn't working out for you?”

 

“Boston’s fine,” Becky admitted. Looking sideways at Sasha and wondering why on earth the woman was pretending like they didn’t hate each other. The funeral was over and the truce was finished as far as Becky was concerned. “I’m just having a bad night. Looks like you might be too.”

 

The shift in tone was unmistakable. Sasha’s own hostility, never far from the surface, stirred but she forced it down. In a strange way, her time with Bayley had taught her how to handle this. Though previously she’d always been the one snapping and Bayley had been the one refusing to rise to the bait. And she at least needed to try.

 

“I am, a bad time for a long time,” she said, evenly.

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad for you?” Becky asked flippantly. Old jealousy rising in her at the thought of everything Sasha had taken from her. The other woman an easy scapegoat to avoid thinking about her own responsibility for how she acted after the fight.

 

It turned out that Sasha’s newly turned leaf could endure exactly ONE bitchy comment. Twisting to face Lynch she said: “Frankly I don’t give a fuck what a drunk thinks about anything!”

 

Seeing Sasha get angry made Becky feel better. The other woman’s relative calm irritating her into prodding till someone felt as shitty as she did.

 

Misery really does love company.

 

“Then why’d you come over her sweetheart? Looking for a nightcap? Because I can tell you right now that even drunk I have better taste.”

 

“That’s a good fucking question…” Sasha hissed. She was furious, which she was more comfortable with than the thing she’d been trying before. Her eyes flicked toward a bottle on the bar top and briefly considered snatching it up. But then she noticed the other people around and forced her hands into her pockets as she stood.

 

She’d decided it was time to launch her most destructive verbal attack.

 

Turning to the bartender she flung a few hundreds across the bar and said: “Let the white girl drink free, in fact, pour her another shot right now.” Sasha turned to glare at Becky as she said: “After all, she’s only here because of me anyway.”

 

Becky’s eyes narrowed. “You must be more drunk than I thought. Aren’t even making sense anymore.” Not bothering to thank Sasha for covering the tab. Knowing that it was more a show of power than out of kindness.

 

Sasha gave her most patronizing smile as she asked: “How long you been out here Rebecca? Gotta be about 5 months now right?”

 

Even Becky couldn’t help feeling perturbed by the smile Sasha sent her way. Sneering back as she responded in clipped tones. “Somethin’ like that. You ‘ave a point?”

 

Sasha’s grin turned from sickly sweet to that of a tiger that had just cornered its prey. Leaning in so her lips were near Becky’s ear she whispered: “Who do you think sent you the note, Champ?”

 

“You’re lying.” Becky threw out quickly.  

 

Sasha leered as she whispered: “We’ve all have fallen short at times in our life. We're owed a fresh start once in a while, so here's your chance.” With that she gave Lynch’s back a slap much harder than could be considered friendly before, with a toss of her hair, she left the bar.

 

Becky was stunned into silence. Not even reacting to the hard thump on her back.

 

Suddenly questioning everything that had happened since she stepped foot in Boston.

 

She wanted to say Sasha was lying but she had only mentioned the note once in an interview with Bayley but had never said what was written.

 

Without looking Becky snatched the shot Sasha had ordered and threw it down. Hissing as the liquid burned its way down to her stomach. The thought of Sasha being the reason for her getting this second chance filled her with a sick feeling. To have the other woman being the reason for her injury and the force behind bringing her to Boston threw her emotions into a blender.

 

The bartender followed Sasha’s orders and Becky drank for another hour before a random thought blew through her hazy mind.

 

Charlotte and Sasha had known each other for a brief period of time. Was that why Sasha had come to the funeral?

 

Her mind making connections and the blame suddenly shifting to another target. Unsteadily jumping off her stool and walking towards the door. Moving towards her new goal without any idea of what she would do when she got there.

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

A loud thump awakened Charlotte from her slumber, but the following crash and repeated thumping made her jump up wide awake. Moving towards her bedside table and opening the top drawer. Her eyes idly moving up to her charging phone and briefly making note that it was nearly four in the morning while pulling out a metal case from inside the drawer.

 

Mind quickly supplying the necessary combination for the case while her fingers automatically put it into the small electronic display. The latch opening and allowing Charlotte to reach her hand inside. Wrapping her fingers around the cold metal grip and pulling the pistol out of its safe.

 

Automatically checking it over and making sure the bullets were loaded. The loud banging noise from her apartments front door not ceasing despite its inconsistency.

  
With the grace of a dancer her feet carried her silently out of her room. Her hands holding the gun steady at her side. Only pulling it up and aiming it towards the door after she called out, “Who’s there?” and getting no response.

 

Charlotte moved closer to the door but decided to try and peak out the window to the left of the door to get a look at whatever had decided to wake her up.

 

Before she even started moving the blinds back she got the answer to her question indirectly.

 

“I know yer fuckin’ in there Charlie. Jus’ com’ open the door… And what’s wit’ all the flowers?” Another crash that Charlotte just now realized must be the pots outside her door where she maintained a tiny garden for herself.

 

With a small sigh of relief Charlotte put the gun down. Moving towards the door and letting the other woman inside.

 

She had noticed that Becky was speaking with a much stronger accent than normal but hadn’t really processed it. More annoyed that the redhead had decided to wake her so early and apparently break some of her flower pots.

 

Charlotte wasn’t awake enough to have any real guesses for why Becky was at her apartment but when she stumbled inside reeking of alcohol the blonde couldn’t help feeling a profound sadness.

 

This week had already been easily one of the worst of her life just from having to bury her own father, but seeing this made it worse.

 

“This is yer place?” Becky said while teetering on the edge of losing her balance. Twirling around in place and looking around the interior. “Cozy.”

 

“Becky… Have you been drinking?” Charlotte felt stupid asking the question. It would require someone to be blind and deaf to somehow not notice the state her fighter was in.

 

Becky clapped her hands together repeatedly. Grinning over at the blonde. “Let’s not make this all ‘bout me Charlie.” A tiny fraction of anger creeping into her voice. “Why not talk about you and t’at piece of trash Sasha Banks.”

 

The words caught Charlotte off guard. Visibly recoiling from how confused she was in this moment. “What?”

 

The redhead unsteadily stepped forward with her finger pointing at Charlotte. “You and Sasha mus’ be ‘aving a laugh. Playin’ god and toyin’ wit’ me.”

 

“Becky what the hell are you talking about?” Charlotte could hardly keep up with how fast Becky lobbed vague accusations in her direction.

 

“I know yer game Flair… Everythin’ you’ve done was jus’ ta set me up. You brought Lexi in jus’ to make things harder fer me. You sent her away. Kept pushin’ me and actin’ like I didn’t deserve to be in yer stupid gym.”

 

“Becky! Calm down. I don’t even--”

 

Even though the movement surprised her Charlotte was easily able to react and dodged the sloppy tackle coming her way. Becky’s body slowly tumbling forward past her intended target until the wall helped stop her momentum.

 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.” Becky spoke in a steady, slow tone that seemed to defy her drunken state.

 

Charlotte sucked in a deep breath. The blonde had expected that Becky was more hurt by Charlotte’s attitude than she let on, but the idea of opening herself up to someone who could, and by all accounts, probably would hurt her still scared her.

 

But it wasn’t acceptable to hurt someone else just because she was afraid. It wasn’t something profound. Most would say it was obvious, and Charlotte would have always agreed with them. Maybe that was why she always had to convince herself that the person beneath the fighter wasn’t right for her whenever she glimpsed the real Becky. Running away from what she was scared to want, because one day it might be gone.

 

Far easier, and safer to simply avoid going after it. Not because she was scared of rejection, but rather of everything going perfectly. Growing closer and developing a bond that when clipped hurts more than any physical pain possibly could.

 

Charlotte made sure she was looking Becky in the eyes, even if the other woman’s were dull and unfocused because of the liquor. “I’m sorry.”

 

Even in her drunken state Becky was off put by the apology. Wobbling slightly  in place. The ground beginning to feel like it was moving beneath her feet even when she wasn’t moving.

 

“I’m sorry for a lot. But I have no idea what you are talking about with Sasha.”

 

The reminder brought back Becky’s anger and she already forgot about the apology. “She told me.”

 

“Told you what?” Charlotte was trying not to lose her patience but Becky’s half answers and ramblings were difficult to put together.

 

Fighters are trained to move as efficiently as possible. Take as few steps as needed and make every movement count.

 

It took Becky twenty steps to traverse a few feet forward and not topple over. The alcohol hitting the fighter harder than normal with a combination of not having drank in so long and having ate nothing since lunch this afternoon. Her stomach feeling tied up in knots the closer it had gotten to when she would pick up Bayley, opting to skip dinner and not risk it.

 

“She tol’ me ‘nough. You and ‘er got me here… Was this all some sor’ of sick game for yous two? String me along, all the while yer laughin’ b’hind me back.”

 

Charlotte could see this wasn’t going anywhere. Becky was obviously too far gone at this point and wasn’t thinking rationally. Still, she had a question that she hoped the redhead would actually answer. “What happened tonight?”

 

The array of emotions Charlotte watched cross Becky’s face was alarming and she quickly realized that she wouldn’t be getting an answer tonight.. So many emotions trapped in such a deceptively small person. Her personality always making her seem bigger than she really was. Sometime Charlotte forgot that Becky was just a person beneath all the bluster and outward confidence. She shouldn’t need to be reminded but the redhead didn’t allow many to see the woman that hid behind the fighter.

 

Charlotte did know one person that Becky had let truly know her and sighed. Pulling out her phone and scrolling down till she found Bayley’s contact. Not looking forward to having to wake up the journalist at almost four thirty in the morning but knowing that Bayley would scold her if she mentioned the time as a reason for not telling the reporter about her friends status.

 

“I’m going to call Bayley.” Charlotte flippantly stated. Informing the fighter out of politeness rather than just ignoring her and looking down at her phone. “You look like you might need a friend.”

 

The massive haymaker that followed her words was easy for Charlotte to sidestep. Becky’s punch telegraphed and lacking the coordination to properly throw it and remain balanced. Momentum sending her tumbling forward again but with no wall to stop her this time.

 

Stumbling ahead till she toppled forward, crashing through a wooden coffee table and scattering the few items that had been sitting on it across the room. A decorative glass vase containing marbles that Charlotte couldn’t even remember buying broke. Sending tiny marbles to cover one side of her living room which the blonde knew would be annoying to clean entirely.

 

Her immediate concern of course was Becky and she rushed to the woman’s side. Kneeling down and offering a hand to help her out of the mess of broken wood she found herself in.

 

She quickly found herself pulling up mostly dead weight. The redhead’’s body finally falling to the alcohol and giving up. Muttering something that Charlotte couldn’t hear.

 

With quite a significant amount of effort the taller woman was able to lug Becky’s unhelpful body to her white couch and gently lay her down. Taking care to point the fighter’s head over the side of the coach in case she suddenly feels the urge to throw up. Running over to her kitchen and pulling the garbage bin over to the couch. Kneeling down beside her and brushing the hair out of Becky’s scrunched up face.

 

The redhead still muttering something. When Charlotte made a move to walk away her hand grabbed onto Charlotte’s elbow and weakly held on.

 

“Don’t. Don’t call her.”

 

Charlotte blinked at the request. Figuring that Becky didn’t want Bayley to see her like this. “I won’t… Under a few conditions.”

 

Becky softly groaned. Her eyes still closed while she spoke. “Whatever. Just… Please don’t call her. I don’t want her to blame herself.”

 

“Why would she?” Charlotte asked. Not getting any answer as Becky’s hand lost its weak grip on her arm and lifelessly fell to dangle off the side of the couch. Even though she wasn’t sure Becky was still conscious Charlotte continued to speak. “Alright… We will talk in the morning.”

 

Rising to her feet and cleaning up the worst of the mess from the broken table.

 

Silently watching the redhead sleep for a moment before she moved to grab a pillow and slip it under Becky’s head.

 

Walking to her room and trying to get a couple good hours of sleep in before dealing with everything that had just been thrown on her plate.

 

She had finally accepted that she had assuredly failed in a multitude of ways and knew she needed to better.

 

This wasn’t much, but it was a start.

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

Bayley had always had it in contemplation to visit the gym one last time before she left Boston the next day. But she’d always envisioned the visit as a fun, if potentially bittersweet, moment of goodbyes. Now she found she was dreading the possibility for so many reasons, but two opposed outcomes stood out from that pack. Bayley wasn’t sure which would be worse, if she ran into Becky or if she didn’t.

 

Despite a veritable barrage of texts, calls, and even emails, Bayley hadn’t heard from her friend. IF Becky was still her friend. Bayley pushed this thought aside angrily, of course she was this was just a big misunderstanding. She was hoping if she kept saying that she’d eventually start to believe it.

 

She knew that she was overdoing it, that she should be respecting Becky’s obvious desire NOT to talk to her. But she couldn’t leave well enough alone in this case. She was so worried that Becky might do something self-destructive that she didn’t care how clingy she seemed.

 

As her rideshare stopped out in front of the gym she had to take a few deep breaths before she could force herself to exit the vehicle with her bag. Just seeing the building brought back so many memories, most of them good, and many of them also involving Becky. It made Bayley’s gut twist with guilt just to see the facade. But she did force herself to go inside.

 

The first person she ran into was Liv Morgan, who greeted her in a friendly way that made Bayley think she didn’t know what had happened between herself and Becky. After their initial hello’s Liv studied her critically and said: “You look like hell.”

 

“Thanks,” Bayley said, trying to muster a smile at what she knew had been meant as a joke.

 

“Everything alright?” Liv asked, sounding concerned.

 

“We’ll see…” Bayley told her as she put a hand on the other woman’s arm before walking back toward the stairs.

 

Charlotte was annoyed to admit that Molly’s advice had helped make her work a little more organized and less hectic. Even though it seemed counter-productive to Charlotte, giving herself a scheduled chunk of time to do whatever she wanted helped make the endless work that needed to be done easier to deal with.

 

Her father may be dead, but Charlotte was more determined than ever to make this gym a success to be proud of.

 

“-It was great talking to you… I’m glad we could actually speak today… I’ll let you go Toni… Have a great day.”

 

Throwing her phone back down on her desk as she tried to think about work. Even if all she could think about was Becky.

 

She had known the woman wouldn’t be up and left a note with instructions on where to find certain things, like aspirin or water, and to call her when she woke up.

 

Charlotte knew Becky wouldn’t be open to a conversation upon waking. Most likely needing some time to nurse away the surely massive hangover that would make any talking basically worthless. Better to let the redhead lick her wounds in private for a small time and have a productive conversation.

 

A soft knock on her door captured Charlotte’s attention away from the hypothetical scenarios she created for when they conversed. “Come in.” She called out.

 

Bayley tried, she really did, to be her usual chipper self. She’d even scripted out how she should handle this interaction in an effort to pull off the ruse. Charlotte had just lost her dad and Bayley had no desire to add any more problems to her plate. Yet for all of this, when she entered the other woman’s office all she managed was: “Hey.”

 

By just the voice alone Charlotte could tell Bayley was holding something in. Add in the visual and it was even more obvious. “Hey, Bayley. What’s on your mind?”

 

“I just came by to see how you’re doing after the funeral, and see if you need any help,” Bayley said, delivering the line she’d prepared. It would have been a lot more believable if there had been some enthusiasm in her voice.

 

Charlotte appreciated the sentiment but knew something else was going on here. The reporter's behavior worrying her, even as she contemplated how much she should tell Bayley. Wanting to respect Becky’s wishes but knowing that guilt would eat her up if she lied to someone she knew Becky was good friends with. “That means a lot, Bayley. It really does… Can I flip that question on you? Do you need any help?”

 

Bayley sat in the chair across from Charlotte and sighed. Charlotte was far too smart to be deceived by this act, especially given that Bayley didn’t buy it herself. “I’m not doing a good job at selling the ‘I’m fine’ thing am I?” she asked dryly.

 

“Might as well be wearing a neon sign to me. Maybe it’s easier to see since I’m trying to do the same thing.” Charlotte admitted with a smile. Being open about her own mental problems was a suggestion of Molly’s and there were very few people she felt comfortable trying this with.

 

Bayley debated on how much she could share here. She knew Becky would be devastated if she found out that Charlotte knew what had gone on between them. And it was this concern for her friend’s privacy that made Bayley say: “Becky issues.”

 

This admission made it even harder for Charlotte to withhold. “I don’t want to lie to you.” Biting her tongue for a moment. Becky saying that Bayley would blame herself coming back to mind. Still missing the full picture but putting enough pieces together to know something had happened between the two. “Would these ‘issues’ be the reason for Becky showing up at my door around 4 am?”

 

Bayley’s eyes widened slightly at this. But the surprise was quickly swamped under a huge tidal wave of shame and guilt. Not even trying to look Charlotte in the face she stared at her lap as she asked: “Probably...was...was she OK?”

 

Charlotte felt like pinching the bridge of nose but fought the impulse. Walking around her desk and laying a hand on Bayley’s shoulder. Knowing that the woman would feel horrible even if it wasn’t her fault. “She’s sleeping it off at my place.” Tiptoeing around outright saying it since she could see Bayley was already blaming herself for whatever went down. “She didn’t want me to call you… Said you would blame yourself.”

 

“Oh no, oh no, oh no…” Bayley was saying into her hands over and over. It was her worst fears realized, confirmed even. Becky had fallen off the wagon, and it sounded like she’d fallen hard, and it was all her fault. Unbidden, a tear fell as she sniffed loudly. “What did I do?” she whispered to herself.

 

Even though she still didn’t know what went down between them Charlotte knew it hadn’t ended well. She squeezed Bayley’s shoulder. “This wasn’t your fault. Becky made a choice. A bad choice, but it was hers. You aren’t responsible for what she does.” All of the words ringing hollow when she saw how devastated Bayley was by this.

 

Bayley couldn’t answer, she was fully crying now and there would be no easy ending to it. Sobs followed shortly after as her body jerked with each one. She was crying over her guilt in her role in Becky’s relapse primarily but she was also crying about everything else that was wrong in her life. Oddly, she was crying about both Becky Lynch and Sasha Banks at the same time.

 

Seeing Bayley so low was an odd experience for Charlotte. Having come to see the woman as such a pillar of emotional strength that seeing her being anything but made her feel horrible. Like the whole world stopped making sense.

 

Charlotte surged forward and grabbed tightly onto the shaking woman. Sobs wracking through Bayley’s body into Charlotte as she tried to take away even a fraction of the suffering she was going through. Squeezing tighter in a hope to give back some of the comfort and caring Bayley had given her.

 

One hand moving to gently cup the back of Bayley’s head and stroke her hair softly. “I’m here for you. You don’t have to always be the strong one.” She whispered. Noting how easily the last sentence could apply to her.

 

Bayley cried for a long time, something she hadn’t allowed herself to do in a very long time. She was realizing that what Charlotte had said was actually very true. She’d been forcing herself to always be the strong one first for Sasha and then with Becky and Charlotte. During all that time there hadn’t really ever been anyone looking out for her.

 

This didn’t exactly make her feel ‘better’ but she was a bit more in control.

 

“I’m sorry….the last thing you need a weepy reporter on your hands this week of all weeks,” Bayley said, though she still clung to Charlotte’s arm.

 

“It’s actually kind of nice to do something for another person. Got tired of everyone telling me how sorry they were.” No real vitriol in her voice. Just trying to speak honestly and make Bayley feel comfortable.

 

Bayley managed a choked sort of laugh at this as she broke their hug. “Thanks, Charlotte, you’re a good friend,” she said with real gratitude. She dried her eyes with a tissue Charlotte helpfully offered her before saying: “I wish I could tell you what was wrong but...I kinda can’t.”

 

Charlotte wanted to protest, but she didn’t want to push beyond Bayley’s boundaries. “I get it… Just know that I’m here if YOU need anything. Doesn’t matter the time. I’m always just a phone call away.”

 

“Thanks, Charlotte,” Bayley said gratefully again. She thought for a moment and then just decided to ask: “You have some time tonight? I leave tomorrow.”

 

Charlotte thought on it and realized that in all the times she and Bayley had sat and talked she had never invited the woman over to her actual apartment. “For you, of course. You can come to my place and I can actually cook for someone other than myself.” Giving a small but warm smile.

 

Bayley just blinked in dumbfounded stupefaction. It was absurd but she realized that on some level she associated Charlotte so heavily with the gym that she hadn’t ever considered that the blonde had a life outside of it. That and the fact that Charlotte was usually so reserved made Bayley very surprised at the invitation. Realizing she’d been quiet for too long she cleared her throat.

 

“Sure, yeah...that’d be great. What can I bring?” she asked.

 

“Uh… I wouldn’t say no to something sweet.” Charlotte offered. Pleased that Bayley was at least feeling slightly better. Her smile widening just a bit. “I can see why you like being the one doing the comforting. It actually does make you feel good… Don’t tell anyone I said that.” A world without a happy Bayley was a sad world indeed, and by the end of the night, Charlotte would make sure to get at least one genuine laugh from the reporter.

 

And she didn’t make a claim like that lightly. She would make it happen if it took all night… But hopefully, it didn’t.

 

**Becky**

 

Waking up with her head feeling like a basketball that had just been dribbled up and down off the court was not pleasant.

 

Nor was coming to grips with and remembering why she felt like this.

 

The splitting headache felt like nothing compared to the shame of having her first relapse since making the decision to finally kick the habit. The devastating taste of failure added to with each memory that flickered in and out of her head.

 

She wanted to bury her head in the soft pillow she didn’t remember falling asleep on and ignore reality but that wasn’t a real option. Not if she wanted a chance at pulling herself out the hole she dug herself.

 

With a strong effort, Becky managed to fight one eyelid open. The bright sunshine filtering through semi-closed blinds challenging her will. Headache steadily pounding like a bass drum in the back of her skull. Her thoughts reminding her of the time she had been watching Bayley wake up in a similar state.

 

For a moment Becky wished that she had had enough to somehow forget the last twelve hours. Or perhaps be struck by divine brilliance and know how to create a time machine.

 

But those thoughts were quickly drowned by the vivid recollection that seemed to be playing in her mind on a loop. From the disastrous and apparently stupid date she put together, to even going in that bar in the first place, Becky knew she had fucked up. With everything else that had happened Sasha being in the same bar she wandered into felt like a sign. A sign of what, Becky hadn’t been sure. At least not until Sasha’s parting words.

 

Apparently, the universe thought it would be hilarious to make Becky question how much she owed Sasha.

 

Before she had received the note sobriety had been the only goal in mind. There was no plan to make a comeback. Even if she had been on a better path Becky hadn’t really been living. She hadn’t made any friends from going to the meetings. Feeling far removed from the others even if they all shared a common flaw.

 

She could feel the stares no matter what group she joined. Always feeling like she was a caged animal that the others would sneak glances at. Knowing that everyone watching her could know all her dirty laundry with one quick google search if they weren’t already aware.

 

Only when she got the note from Banks had she started daring to dream of maybe getting back in the cage. She wished that it didn’t bother her but knowing it was Sasha muddied the waters.

 

There was a tiny part of her that wanted to be grateful, but the overwhelming feeling she couldn’t fight was that Becky would rather never step foot in a cage again than feel like a charity case. Sasha showing pity on her after winning and ripping apart her knee was worse than death in her eyes. A blow to her ego and self-worth. Even if the other woman had sent the note out of whatever kindness was buried in her heart it didn’t stop Becky from feeling utterly humiliated by the gesture.

 

She wished that somehow she could blame her relapse on Banks but that was a lie. Even before Sasha had sauntered over Becky had already thrown away months of sobriety and progress for a few hours of numbing the pain.

 

Shifting her head created a noise Becky knew but couldn’t place. One hand moving up to paw around and find a piece of paper that had been tucked carefully beneath her pillow.

 

Quickly opening the piece of paper and regretting it immediately. ‘ _Call me when you get up. We need to talk. -Charlotte p.s. Bathroom medicine cabinet; top shelf_

 

And she had thought that the bad news was over.

 

**Becky/Charlotte**

 

The two women sat at opposite ends of Charlotte’s couch. One choosing to give the other the space she needed and the other not wanting to be involved in this conversation at all.

 

Charlotte did her best to remain calm and tried to not let any judgment show, but dealing with this sort of setback was another reminder why Becky Lynch was not someone to trust in. She had used this excuse before to avoid dealing with Becky when she was in a mood, but this was something entirely different.

 

Becky Lynch falling off the wagon was exactly what she had worried would happen from the moment her father gave the woman an opportunity.

 

She remembered telling Becky that she wouldn’t be allowed to drink while staying at the gym. A couple months ago and Charlotte would have had no problem following through right away but she was hesitant to do so now.

 

If there was anything she had learned about Becky it was that she didn’t respond well to Charlotte telling her what to do. Doing so now could easily result in Becky simply fighting everything she said. But using kid gloves around the redhead would only serve to anger her.

 

The Becky that sat on the other side of the couch was oddly resigned to waiting for Charlotte to start this conversation. Staring down at her fingernails and picking at dirt where Charlotte knew there was none.

 

“Don’t need me to tell you that drinking was a bad idea.” Charlotte started off. Catching her guests attention even though she continued to pick at her nails.

 

The blonde sighed and scooted across the couch to close the distance between the two. Her hand coming up to rest on Becky’s shoulder and give her a small squeeze.

 

“You’re going to go see a counselor at least once a week. I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen… I know something happened between you and Bayley.” Becky flinched and Charlotte was quick to reassure her. “I don’t care what it was. We both just want you to be healthy and happy.”

 

Becky snorted and crossed her arms.

 

“It might not seem like it right now but Bayley still cares about you. Don’t push her away.”

 

“Fine… I’ll see the counselor. Can I go now?”

 

Charlotte closed her eyes and counted to five. Becky was trying to make her lose her cool and she couldn’t allow that to happen. “That’s great but we aren’t done yet.”

 

“What more is there to say? I got drunk. Won’t happen again.” Came the almost flippant response.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“... Say what? I must be hearing things.”

 

“I said I’m sorry. For a lot of things. I shouldn’t have said-” Charlotte had a hard time reconciling the words she had harshly thrown. She hadn’t even forgiven herself, so why would Becky. “-those things. You don’t need to forgive me or anything. I just needed to make sure you know I was wrong and I lashed out at the wrong person.”

 

Becky was uncustomarily silent. “Why are you apologizing right now? This feels weird.”

 

Charlotte shook her head and surprised herself by squeezing Becky’s shoulder again and slowly wrapping the woman in a hug. Giving her enough time to run away if she so chose.

 

“Uh… Charlie?”

 

The blonde rolled her eyes at the nickname Becky usually reserved to try and annoy her.

 

“What the hell is this?”

 

“Becky… Just shut up.” Charlotte said. Holding onto the other woman’s stiff upper body for almost a minute before Becky reluctantly relaxed into her arms. “This isn’t the end of the world. You made a mistake, but now you just have to pick yourself back up and keep moving forward.”

 

“Find that nugget of wisdom in a fortune cookie?” Becky tried to keep her voice joking but the longer she stayed in Charlotte’s embrace the more she felt some of her barriers crack.

 

“It’s alright Becky. Don’t let a moment of weakness ruin all the progress you’ve made.” Continuing to try and fight the redhead’s cynicism with positive affirmations.

 

Becky stayed quiet and Charlotte worried that the Irish woman was going to retreat back behind her walls when she heard whisper so quiet she never would have guessed it came from the same woman she knew. “What if I already did.”

 

“Then you work hard. And Rebuild what’s worth it.” Charlotte offered.

 

A comfortable sort of silence fell over the two. Right before Charlotte released the woman from her hug she felt Becky squeeze back for just a moment. “Thanks… But I need one thing from you.”

 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow and backed away. Quick to give Becky back her space and not crowd her.

 

“Don’t hug me again without my permission.”

 

“I’ll try to resist.” Charlotte countered. Becky obviously wanted to downplay the serious moment they just had and the blonde decided to allow it. For now at least.

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

Charlotte looked around her apartment and frowned. It was nowhere as clean as it normally was, but it had taken quite a bit of time to gather up all the scattered marbles and clean the room enough so that it didn’t carry the stench of alcohol any longer.

 

Bayley should be here any moment and Charlotte wanted everything to be perfect, or as close as possible at least. She didn’t invite people to her apartment often. It was her safe zone to decompress and escape, but more often than not had become more of a tomb where she would go to avoid. Molly had offered inviting someone as a challenge and this seemed like an easy person to try it out.

 

The enchiladas she had made filled the room with a strong aroma from their place in the oven. While rice continued to slowly cook on the stovetop.

 

Her friend needed someone to be there for her and Charlotte was going to try her damnedest to make up for her poor track record.

 

When the doorbell rang Charlotte suddenly remembered that she hadn’t cleaned up the flower pots Becky had smashed last night. The dirt and shards kicked to one side but not actually picked up and thrown out. Silently rebuking herself for overlooking it. Knowing how much Bayley already blamed herself Charlotte hadn’t wanted an obvious indicator of Becky’s relapse to be out in the open.

 

Sighing she walked towards the door and moved to let her guest in.

 

Bayley had taken extra care with her appearance before leaving her hotel room. Privately she had to admit to herself that Charlotte could be intimidating. She was so tall, statuesque, and elegant that she sometimes left Bayley feeling awfully plain. Thanking provenance that she’d thrown a second dress into her bag, Bayley was wearing it as she approached the door. She didn’t have the shoes for this though so she’d just worn her usual sneakers, the look was unconventional.

 

But dressing and the process of planning her outfit had been a welcome distraction from her larger problems. Bayley doubted she’d ever felt worse than how she’d felt earlier that day. The news that Becky had relapsed, and the undeniable fact that it was Bayley’s fault, had devastated her. She doubted she’d feel ‘good’ for a very long time. Actually, it felt like she never would again.

 

But she also recognized what a big step it had been for Charlotte to invite her over. And Bayley refused to let her problems, no matter how major, with one friend, ruin her newly repaired relationship with another.

 

She pressed the doorbell.

 

In an attempt at starting things off lighthearted after their earlier conversation Charlotte opened the door with a flourish and swept her arm out in an overly grand gesture. “Welcome to _La Castilla Flair_. Come on in.”

 

Bayley blinked at this response before something incredibly unlikely happened. Her mouth twitched twice and then the laughter began. In a moment she was giggling so hard that she had to lean against the side of the door. Even to her, she knew that it sounded a bit manic, as much a way for excess emotion to escape as a sigh of actual amusement, but it did feel good.

 

Charlotte couldn’t help herself from joining in. The laughter feeling good after the week of bad news followed by yet more bad news. “You know I was actually hoping to get you to laugh a bit. Just didn’t expect it so soon.”

 

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry…” Bayley wheezed as she finally managed to straighten “...it’s just your accent.” She snorted then and almost lost herself to more laughter but she was able to control it. As she looked around she noticed a pile of what looked like broken pottery off to one side of the doorstep. Frowning now, Bayley asked: “Abstract art illustrating the futility of the human experience?”

 

She didn’t want to bring the brunette’s mood down but she really didn’t want to lie. “I don’t think that’s what she was going for.”

 

The implications of this statement kicked the humor out of Bayley instantly. But, not wanting to be a downer, she forced a smile and said: “Well, I’m going to pull back hard on the conversational stick now so we don’t crash into that topic if that’s alright.”

 

“Probably for the best ” Charlotte admitted. Giving her best smile to try and counter the sudden chill that had crept over them at the reminder. “You want a drink? Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes or so. I tried to make some Mexican food. Hopefully, we both aren’t dead tomorrow of food poisoning, but I followed the recipes exactly.”

 

Wishing to get back to a more convivial atmosphere Bayley tried a joke as she stepped inside, saying: “Oh Charlotte, first the accent and now the food...I don’t know how more my culture can take.”

 

“Wait until I bring out the _pinata_.” Charlotte joked. Trying her best to keep Bayley focused on something other than what she clearly still blamed herself for.

 

Bayley was about to respond when her shoe crunched on something. Bending down she came up with a tiny piece of splintered wood in her hand. “The same thing as the pottery?” she asked, trying desperately to keep her voice light.

 

Her smile slowly faded into a thin line. She really should have paid someone to professionally clean, but she hadn’t let Becky leave her place till their conversation was concluded. Which left her with only a few hours to prepare for Bayley’s arrival. “Thought I got it all cleaned up but I was clearly wrong.” Once again opting for honesty rather than trying to bend the truth. Gesturing over to the empty space in front of the couch. “Used to be a coffee table there. Might try keeping it this way for a bit though. Really opens the room up.” She tried to joke and quickly realized that it wasn’t working. “Anyways…” Scratching the back of her head while coming up with a way to steer the conversation away from Becky. “Thanks for coming. It uhh, means a lot. I can’t remember the last time I had a friend over.”

 

Taking the conversational lifeline, Bayley moved to sit on the couch and said: “Somehow...that doesn’t surprise me. I remember thinking while I was here full time that you must not actually spend much time here.”

 

Charlotte walked over to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. Opening one for herself and taking a large gulp. “I didn’t back then. I’m just trying to separate myself from the business a bit.” Walking over towards the couch and offering Bayley the other bottle of water. Summoning up some courage before admitting, “On the advice of my therapist.” Her eyes focused on the ground rather than her guest. Anxiety and fear rolling around in her brain at revealing that she was going to therapy. The vulnerability of admitting something so personal, even to a friend, was terrifying.

 

Bayley’s eyes widened slightly at this. She’d thought that both Becky and Charlotte would benefit from seeing a therapist, but hadn’t ever expected either to actually do it. Even despite her generally low mood, Bayley’s small smile became much more genuine as she reached over to squeeze Charlotte’s wrist. “I’m really proud of you Charlotte,” she said earnestly.

 

Now that it was over and done with Charlotte honestly didn’t even know what she had been afraid of. The idea that Bayley would be anything other than supportive seemed ludicrous after the fact, but that didn’t stop the intense relief that flowed through her. The tension in her body she hadn’t even been aware of disappearing like it had never been there in the first place. “Thanks.” Looking up at Bayley for just a moment before she frowned and looked back towards the ground. “I also feel like I never gave you the apology you deserve, so here goes. I was wrong to get rid of you the way I did. I took the cowards way out and had Alexa pull the rug out from under you so I wouldn’t have to… I’m sorry for that and being such a gigantic bitch last time.” Charlotte paused for a moment to wipe a tear from her eyes. “I’m truly sorry Bay. Please just smack me next time I act like an idiot.”

 

It was Bayley’s usual habit to try and deflect a comment like this with humor. But not now. She knew Charlotte was opening up in a way that she probably never did. She needed to take that seriously. Reaching over to take Charlotte’s hands she said “You know how much it hurt me the first time, it made me feel like you didn’t care about our friendship. And in the bar, what hurt me most was that you used personal information that I shared with my friend to hurt me.” Bayley let this hang in the air for a moment and she saw how badly it had affected Charlotte. So she added: “But I know you’re really trying to make it right, and I’m sure you know by now I love you, so I accept your apology.”

 

Charlotte tried her best to smile through the misery she felt from hurting someone so kind and understanding. It felt like only a true asshole monster could take advantage of someone like Bayley and she hated knowing she had done so at more than one point. Squeezing Bayley’s hands and looking back up into the reporter’s eyes for a second. “Thanks. I still don’t feel like I deserve it, but I will try my best to keep on earning it.”

 

Bayley looked at her friend, looking positively wretched. So she relented. Charlotte wasn’t looking so it was hardly fair, but Bayley’s hand flashed up and cracked against her cheek. It wasn’t a hard blow but it was enough to leave Charlotte looking stunned. Bayley grinned at her and said: “Happy now?”

 

Charlotte was surprised for a moment until she remembered her own words. A tiny chuckle breaking her stunned silence. “Well, I did give you permission.” One hand coming up to rub at her stinging cheek. “Damn! You really pack a deceptive punch. Looking to get into the other side of fighting? I’m still looking to bring in some new blood.”

 

Bayley laughed at this as she leaned in to hug Charlotte. As they embraced she repeated: “I’m proud of you _chica”_

 

Normally praise like this made Charlotte feel awkward, but Bayley had an aura about her that made you feel safe and she returned the hug. “You’re too damn nice for this world. You know that? Hopefully, you find someone who treats you like you deserve.” Charlotte automatically thinking about Sasha and what Bayley had told her about their ‘relationship’ if one could truly even call it one.

 

This sobered Bayley as she pulled back from Charlotte and picked at the label on her bottle. She did some furious thinking for a few moments before she made a decision. “Before we eat, can I share something with you that you can NOT ever tell anyone else?”

 

Charlotte had watched the small internal battle Bayley went through before asking and knew whatever it was she had to say was not something she felt excited about sharing. Settling back into the couch in a relaxed pose. Sipping softly from the water bottle before speaking. “Of course. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve already sworn you to secrecy a few times so it’s only right I return the favor.”

 

Bayley didn’t answer beyond a small smile as she looked down at her water. Taking a few deep breaths she swallowed and said: “I...know why Becky was so...off...last night.”

 

The vague answer made Charlotte a little nervous about what the full answer would be, but she nodded along anyway. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want. I get the sense it’s something personal.” Offering Bayley an out from an obviously uncomfortable subject.

 

“No, it will probably end up concerning you anyway…” Bayley said, reluctant to stop talking now that she’d started “...Becky....kind of took me on a date.”

 

Charlotte had to blink several times. If she didn’t know her hearing was perfect the blonde might have questioned if she heard that correctly. As is, she honestly didn’t know how she was feeling but hid it behind her worry for Bayley. “It didn’t end well I take it.” More a statement than a question.

 

“Well...the problem was that...Becky thought it was a date, I didn’t,” Bayley explained sadly.

 

“Oh…” Charlotte exclaimed before silence took over both women for a moment. “That’s… uncomfortable.” She lamely finished.

 

“Yeah...well...you saw better than I did what happened…” Bayley said, now sounding dejected.

 

Charlotte didn’t feel comfortable speaking on Becky’s behalf but knew the redhead hadn’t yet spoken to Bayley even after Charlotte’s prodding. “Don’t blame yourself. I know she hasn’t contacted you yet…” Taking a deep breath before revealing one of the terms they came to an agreement on. “She did agree to talk to a counselor for at least one session a week. I’m only saying this because I know she will avoid telling you if she can…” Debating if she wanted to reveal one more thing. “There was one thing she wanted me to tell you though. Wanted to say she’s sorry for putting you in that position and to not feel responsible. Kept saying there was more to it than you knew.”

 

This didn’t actually help Bayley feel better but she still appreciated Charlotte’s efforts. Reaching for the chain at her neck she held out the sobriety chip for Charlotte to see and said: “She gave me this…”

 

Charlotte wasn’t terribly familiar with the program herself but knew enough to know what the chip meant. “I’m sure she’d want you to keep it.” She said softly. Not knowing what else to say at that moment that could possibly make Bayley feel any better.

 

“I just feel so guilty Charlotte...and I’m worried something is wrong with me. All my relationships seem to blow up on me,” Bayley said miserably.

 

Charlotte laid a hand on Bayley’s shoulder and squeezed. Once again pulling the other woman into an embrace she sensed was needed. “Nothing is wrong with you. You are the kindest woman I know. And because of that kindness, damaged people tend to gravitate towards you. You have a gift for making people feel loved despite whatever shitty things they’ve done.” Speaking about herself as well as the other two fighters. “Don’t ever change Bayley. None of it’s your fault.”

 

“I really appreciate that Charlotte, even if I can’t access it right now…” she said and then she sniffed the air before adding: “...Your enchiladas are burning by the way.”

 

It took only a moment for Charlotte to begin scrambling off her own couch and crossing her home in record time. Grabbing an oven mitt and opening her oven to the sight of smoke billowing out. Quickly turning the hood vent onto high and pulling out the completely inedible food. “Damnit. I was actually looking forward to those.” Hands moving to her hips as she looked at her attempt at enchiladas with disappointment. “Well… Delivery it is.”

 

**Mandy**

 

The blonde reporter closed her laptop once it finished powering down. Her work for the day finished. A satisfied smile on her face as she leaned back in her chair and pulled out her phone to check all her social media accounts for anything that seemed salacious.

 

News in the MMA world traveled quickly and if you didn’t pay constant attention it would pass you by. With someone else getting the increased traffic that came with being first. Mandy hated the idea of missing out on any chance for increasing her profile no matter how small.

 

She hadn’t gone to college for this job. Just starting a blog and being an attractive blonde had given her a built-in audience that wasn’t difficult to appease. Coming from where she did gave Mandy the advantage of not caring for the outdated concept of journalistic integrity. Not following the ‘ethics’ of journalism had allowed her to flourish online in an age where being first was more important than being correct.

 

Click-bait would be an accurate description of Mandy’s style but she had no qualms about it. Wearing the accusations as a mark of pride. Why wouldn’t she try to get the most views on her stories? It would be stupid and self-sabotage to let something like due process or personal privacy get in the way of advancing her career.

 

The news lately had been relatively slow. Ric Flair’s funeral dominating most headlines with retrospectives and musing on his life and legacy.

 

Mandy was just about to declare there to be nothing of interest to her when she got a call from a name she hadn’t seen in some time. Not since they had been cut off from the source of their insider information.

 

Still, the out of the blue call piqued her curiosity and Mandy answered with an open mind. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you after she kicked you to the curb. You have thirty seconds to stop me from just hanging up. What do you got for me Carmella?”

 

The phone call lasted quite a bit more than thirty seconds.

 

 

**Bayley/Becky/Charlotte**

 

Becky pulled up in front of the gym. Throwing her freshly purchased 2019 red Jeep Wrangler into park and taking a moment to gather herself before going inside.

 

Charlotte had insisted that Becky needed to be here this morning but hadn’t been forthcoming with exactly why.

 

Even though she had no plans prior to step inside the gym Becky relented and texted that she would stop by. Her plans for the rest of the day hopefully only delayed by a bit.

 

She looked at the paper sitting in the passenger seat that listed several apartments around Boston than fit what she was looking for.

 

Money wasn’t a huge problem for her anymore. Not after getting two win bonuses and living so frugal since coming to Boston. The jeep had been an impulse buy. The need to be able to get away from everything finding her walking over a mile to the dealership and buying it outright. If Becky had been in a better mood she may have laughed at the stunned expression of the dealer when she interrupted his practiced speech and told him to go get the papers, or else she would find another dealer to give the commission.

 

Looking for an apartment of her own away from the gym was something she probably should have been looking into a long time ago. As much as she hated to admit fear had been a primary reason for not moving out the gym.

 

Becky sighed loudly in the jeep’s interior. Not excited to go face whatever Charlotte needed her for but wanting to get it out of the way as quick as possible. Slipping on the pair of jet black aviator glasses she had just paid way too much for and stepping outside in the chilly Boston air.

 

Right when she entered the gym Becky had a bad feeling about this. Something about the silence had her on edge in seconds. Not bothering to take off her sunglasses as if they would somehow help shield whatever was coming.

“Charlotte?” She called out as she walked through the lobby. Mumbling quietly to herself, “If this isn’t important I’m going to be pissed.”

 

The blonde’s voice rang out from her office and down the stairs. Easy to hear without the normal noise level in the gym. “I’m up here.”

 

Becky rolled her eyes and stuffed her hands deep in her jacket pockets. “Are your legs broken?”

 

“Just come up… Please.”

 

Her steps were slow and unhurried. Moving up the stairs at a glacial pace with her entire body screaming how much she didn’t want to be here right now.

 

Charlotte was waiting for her in the doorway to the office behind her and was looking at Becky in a way that didn’t sit well with her. She couldn’t put her finger on it but something in the blonde’s eyes was already setting off early warning bells.

 

“Well? What the hell am I here for?” Becky asked while making no effort to hide her displeasure.

 

“How about you step in my office. That way this conversation can actually happen.”

 

Becky shook her head and slowly began to walk past Charlotte into the office. “We already talked. What more is there to say?”

 

Charlotte waited until Becky had stepped inside the office before responding. “I never said that **I** needed to speak with you.” Closing the door behind herself and locking them inside, “Be angry at me if you need to. This was mostly my idea.”

 

The words registered somewhere in Becky’s mind but they never got processed. Her entire focus shifting as rapidly as her heartbeat raced.

 

She wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t know if she ever would be, but this… This was way too early.

 

“Hey, Bayley. Long time no see.”

 

In this moment Becky truly hated that Bayley knew her so well. Her best armor recently was nonchalance and playing things off like they didn’t bother her but the reporter knew that.

 

Bayley might know the Becky Lynch of today, but the old Becky might have a few tricks up her sleeve.

 

She knew the small smile she put on was forced, and that Bayley would easily see through it but she tried anyway.

 

Bayley had only been waiting for about ten minutes, but it had felt like an hour. During that time she’d tried hard to think about what she might say if/when Becky arrived. Everything she’d come up with had felt horribly artificial and staged. She was still grappling with this problem when the moment arrived.

 

“H-hey Becks,” was all she managed to say.

 

Becky kept quiet for a moment. Already finding it difficult to listen to Bayley speaking so unsurely. Her hands formed fists that were hidden inside pockets, attempting to redirect her stress away from showing through her face. The lens of her sunglasses helped hide the truth that she knew Bayley would be able to see. She wasn’t fine, but the thought of adding to Bayley’s guilt was unacceptable. “So… What are we doing here? I’m assuming Charlotte set this up for a reason.”

 

“I asked her to…” Bayley said as she stood, and made a herculean effort to not look down at the floor. She knew she looked like a mess, and that her eyes were probably still a bit red, but she forced herself to look at Becky. “I...I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am.”

 

The redhead just shrugged. “No need. You shouldn’t have to apologize for having good taste.” Becky grinned widely and wiggled her eyebrows above the top of her aviators. “But if you want I wouldn’t say no to a sample before you go. On the house.”

 

As answers went, this was not what Bayley had been hoping for. It was, in fact, not an answer at all. It was the kind of deflection that the Becky she’d first met would have used. She thought they’d moved past that, but it seemed she’d pushed them right back. Bayley couldn’t think of anything to say to it however, so she just gave a grimace-like smile.

 

Charlotte saw that Becky had already thrown Bayley off and stepped in. “Becky. Can you be serious right now.”

 

Several popping noises filled the room when the Irish woman rolled her neck. Her grin dropping for a moment before she shrugged again and it returned. “I guess… Let's get this over with.” She said.

 

Bayley took a deep breath and said: “I know that I hurt you Becky, and I am sorry. But I don’t want to lose you as a friend and- damnit…” Bayley said as her voice broke and she looked down. She was furious at herself for crying at this moment. Becky would never respect someone who got weepy after one sentence.

 

Becky’s lips pursed as she tried to fight the inherent desire to beat up whoever made Bayley cry. It just wasn’t a sight she liked seeing. It felt wrong. There was a part of her that thought maybe this would be easier if the other woman hated her but she quickly shot that down. “It’s fine... We’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” Her armor already failing her and allowing a small hiccup in her cadence that most wouldn’t think anything of.

 

“No...no…” Bayley said as she sniffed “...I sorry, I just…” She trailed off and made herself to take a few steadying breaths. She forced her voice back to normal as she said: “I’m sorry I ruined things Becky but I hope we can be friends again. If you’re not ready I understand but...someday?”

 

There had never been a moment in Becky’s life when she had thanked sunglasses, but there’s a first for everything. She wanted to stop speaking as soon as she started but forged onward despite how shaky her voice was. “You didn’t ruin anything.” Pausing for a moment to try and pull together her heart for the next few minutes at least. A fresh and hopefully more convincing smile back on her face. “It’s all good. There wasn’t a moment when we weren’t friends… I just needed some time to put things in perspective.” Purposefully avoiding talking about her relapse and trying to move past it.

 

Bayley nodded, glad she was feeling a bit more in control. Standing slowly, she approached Becky. Moving very slowly, as though she thought Becky might flee at any second. When she was only a few feet from the Irish woman, her eyes fixed on Becky’s sunglasses, she carefully drew the chain holding her 4-month sobriety chip from under her shirt.

 

“I know you gave this time me hoping it would mean something else. I know you wanted to give it to your girlfriend, and I just wish I could be her…” she said as she slowly unclasped the chain behind her neck “...But maybe you’d still like to give it to her someday?” She said this last as she offered the chain to Becky. Bayley was pleased her voice was calm, though she knew that she had to look like she might cry again at any moment.

 

Becky was glad her hands were still deep in her pockets as Bayley approached, lest the brunette see how tightly her fists clenched.

 

When Bayley held out necklace she wasn’t sure what felt worse; Bayley initially rejecting her, or this.  Fighting back to urge to recoil from the chip like she would be burnt if it touched her. “Keep it.” Becky paused to suck in a breath. “It would probably just end up in a trash can.”

 

Bayley nodded as she stepped slowly forward, again giving Becky every chance to pull away. When she didn’t Bayley wrapped her in a hug during which she tried to convey all the love and comfort she possibly could. She sensed Becky tensing at first but Bayley didn’t let go. As she hugged Becky she brought her lips next to Becky’s ear and whispered: “I’ll take good care of it until you replace it with another one.”

 

Becky forced herself to stay in Bayley’s arms and pretend like everything was normal, but it was impossible. She was tense from the first contact and no matter how hard she tried to relax into the hug like she had always been able to before,) it never came.

 

She was able to return the hug and coax her arms around the reporter but knew the gesture was a cover. A way to try and convince Bayley that she was alright when she had no clue if she was.

 

Rather than respond Becky just nodded stiffly. Her eyes dropping to the floor behind mirrored lenses. The guilt from making Bayley so sad keeping her mouth shut.

 

Bayley sensed Becky’s discomfort so when she released her she turned away. Looking at Charlotte she made her way over to the other woman and hugged her as well. But as Charlotte bent down to receive the hug Bayley hid her lips in Charlotte’s blonde hair and whispered: “Take care of her, OK?”

 

Charlotte peered over at a statue like Becky. Whispering back, “I’ll do my best.”  

 

Becky watched the exchange with rapt attention. Her mind suddenly swirling with a cacophony of thoughts that seemed to all be trying to shout over the others.

 

Breaking away from Charlotte Bayley put a hand on her arm before she walked to the door. Putting a hand on her roller bag, she managed the first legitimate smile of the day as she looked back at the room and said: “I’ll see you both soon.” Then she was gone.

 

Charlotte looked over at the woman still standing perfectly still in her office and shook her head. “You could have at least taken off the sunglasses and looked her in the eye.”

 

“What would you know?” Becky sniped back in an already defeated tone.

 

“I know you just hurt the only person who actually believed in you from day one. It certainly wasn’t me.” Becky turned on Charlotte, “Don’t get mad, I’m just being honest. I thought you were a risk from day one. Bayley was the only person other than my dad to tell me you were worth it. To stick it out.”

 

Becky didn’t know if she could respond without breaking down so she simply remained quiet.

 

“It took me a while but I think I’ve seen what they were talking about.” Charlotte turned towards the door started to walk out herself. “But I have to be honest. You can be your own worst enemy.” Looking back over her shoulder before leaving. “But you don’t have to be.”

 

Becky could have whipped out a sarcastic comment but chose to remain silent. Continuing to stand even once Charlotte had been long gone.

 

The regret that washed over her came suddenly and Becky sprinted out of the office and into the parking lot hoping to catch Bayley before she left, but the brunette was nowhere to be found. Probably long gone by the time Becky actually acted, came out prepared to apologize for acting like an ass and beg for forgiveness.

 

All that greeted her was a mostly empty parking lot and a fresh helping of disappointment in herself. The silence inside her new Jeep only lasting for a few seconds before she couldn’t stand it anymore and started her playlist. The beginning chords of Pearl Jam’s " _Just Breathe"_ filling the space and seeming to mock her mood.

 

She and Bayley had first found common ground with their taste in music.

 

Becky punched the power button and turned the radio off after the lyrics kicked in. Sitting back in her seat with one hand moving to her forehead. Finally pulling off her sunglasses and throwing them into the seat next to her. The red eyes and tears they had helped hide finally exposed.

 

Only one word could sum up Becky’s emotions right now. “Fuck… FUCK-FUCK-FUCK!” Fist bouncing off the steering wheel to punctuate each word before she deflated and slumped down in her seat. “...Fuck me.”

 

**Sasha**

 

It didn’t surprise Sasha at all to find that Zelina had moved out when she got back to her home. She supposed that, under most circumstances, someone would be devastated to find that their fiance had left. Sasha found that she didn’t much care.

 

She wasn’t even pleased or relived. Which she would have expected. It was as though Zelina Vega was a matter of total indifference to her. This apathy was so strong that she wasn’t even annoyed to find that Zelina had decamped with several items that had definitely been bought with Sasha’s money. In Sasha’s calculations, they seemed a small price to pay.

 

Yet, though she’d probably never even LIKED Zelina, the house did seem particularly empty now. Dropping heavily onto one of her couches Sasha automatically drew out her phone and began to thumb through her contacts. It was sobering to realize that with over two hundred names in her phone, none were her friends. Many of them would drop everything to come over this instant, some would even sleep with her, but she wasn’t close with any of them.

 

Sighing, Sasha let her head slump back so she could stare up at the ceiling. Teddy had called shortly after she’d landed to inform her that Simon Dean had also quit. This wasn’t any great loss in itself, but it was fairly in keeping with her circumstances at the moment. Those she hadn’t driven away were leaving on their own. Leaving Sasha alone, or almost alone.

 

There was still the Boss.

 

Sasha could almost SEE her other side in front of her. Identical her in every way, clad in flashy clothes and her trademark jewelry. The Boss beckoned, as she always did, with the easy way out. Sasha could go back to her and sink back into a world where anger and superficiality would shield her not only from the world at large but her own feelings as well.

 

It had been easy to leave her behind when she’d gone to Boston. The very real grief she’d been feeling over Ric had held the Boss at bay to the point where Sasha could almost have forgotten she was still there. It had even been easy to toss her rings into that grave, to hope that gesture by itself would be enough.

 

But now, back in her own slime pit again...it was different.

 

Sasha had actually ordered multiple copies of her boss jewelry and she was staring now at one of her other pairs of sunglasses. She didn’t remember placing them on the coffee table but there they were.

 

Sasha had created the Boss originally to help her. Sasha Banks was fallible, nervous, and a little scared of the MMA world she’d been stepping into. But the boss? She was confident, self-assured, and not scared of anything or anyone. The fact that she’d shared Sasha Banks’ face and voice didn’t matter. The boss was Sasha’s protector, or she was supposed to be. Somewhere along the way, she’d become her master.

 

On some level, Sasha had known this for a very long time. She was also aware that this wouldn't make sense to any rational person who heard it. Because in addition to being the master, the Boss was also a dodge. A way for Sasha to avoid accountability for her own actions, not just from others...but with herself.

 

Now, the glasses almost called to her. Life could be easy and pleasurable again. Who cared if it was hollow and lonely. She could just continue to use the money, drugs, booze, and sex to fill her life. She could get comfortable there again, and just coast. There was no one to stop her and now that Zelina was gone, no one she even had to pretend to care about.

  
All of that was sitting in front of her.

 

Yet, she didn’t want to take it.

 

Perhaps Boston had affected her even more profoundly than she realized. But she suspected there was to it than that. Her conversation with Becky Lynch that night in the gym had left a lasting mark. Their discussion of Bayley had driven home to Sasha just how far gone she was. Bayley did indeed ALWAYS see the best in people, they both knew that. But this just made it all the more damning that she seemed to have given up on Sasha.

 

What kind of a monster would it take, for Bayley Martinez to walk away from them?

 

Even the boss couldn’t make Sasha want to be THAT person. Or voluntarily return to being them.

 

Standing, and walking past the glasses she found herself in her kitchen. Sasha had thought before that it didn’t really make sense to call the room a ‘kitchen’. It had top of the line appliances and was equipped well enough to make a 5-star chef envious. And yet it wasn’t really a kitchen, ‘food storage’ was a better term as Sasha never cooked. Or at least she hadn’t in a long time.

 

Then her thoughts strayed back to Bayley, the person Sasha missed most in the world. And the one whom she had the least idea of how to try and get back. If that would be even possible. But for now, she’d have to settle for a memory. In their earliest days together, Sasha HAD cooked for Bayley. Not much, and with no variety, but she’d done it. She only known, and still only knew, one dish: blueberry banana pancakes.

 

It took Sasha a very long time to get started considering this was, notionally, her own kitchen. But as she’d noted before, she didn’t spend much time in here. But when she’d finally managed to gather all the ingredients she would need, she set to work.

 

It struck Sasha how easily she remembered and carried out the steps. Sifting the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar and then adding the eggs and butter. She stirred and stirred until she had a smooth batter before adding the blueberries and bananas. Then she heated the pan, added the butter, and waited until it was the right temperature. Doing her best to pour out equal sized discs Sasha made far too many pancakes for someone who lived on her own.

 

She made enough for two people.

 

When she finally turned off the stove she took a plate and two pancakes for herself. This wasn’t at all within her ‘fighting’ diet, but it seemed she had a few months vacation in front of her anyway. Grabbing syrup and butter from her fridge she sat down at the island and added these last two things to the cakes in front of her. As she sat, she just happened to look around the cavernous kitchen.

 

She was still alone.

 

Her face falling Sasha picked up her silverware with hands that suddenly trembled. She managed to cut herself three bites before the silverware clattered down to the plate. Sasha had just looked to her side and seen the row of empty stools there. As she’d done so, she could only imagine the person who should have been there. As she did, all appetite fled her. Standing so quickly that her stool fell backward, Sasha almost ran out of the kitchen. Fleeing both the enormous mess she’d made and the ghosts there.

 

Everywhere she looked and went it seemed that the house was taunting her. Looking out the large windows that faced the ocean, she imagined what it would have been like to sit on the balcony with Bayley. Passing her workout room she imagined the reporter looking up as she ran on the treadmill, and giving Sasha that perfect smile. In the study, she could picture Bayley sitting at the desk, absolutely focused on her laptop with her tongue protruding slightly from her lips.

 

It could have been perfect, it should have been.

 

But Sasha had ruined it. And it was with this sobering knowledge that she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. As she walked she automatically noted several pieces of memorabilia that had, apparently, moved out with Zelina. Not that it mattered to her. Stepping into the palatial bedroom, the site of so many attempts to blot out her conscience or hide from her issues, Sasha suddenly found she couldn’t stomach the idea of sleeping there.

 

So it was in one of her home’s five guest bedrooms that she dropped, fully clothed, onto a bed. In a perfect world, sleep would have claimed her then and there But of course it didn’t. So she was forced to reflect, and mourn for what might have been until she finally drifted off to sleep.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley’s trip back across the country was long and depressing.

 

She spent most of the trip staring listlessly out the window, lost in her thoughts. Ordinarily, Bayley paid to access wifi on flights but she wasn’t going to even try to work today. Her mind was still back in Boston. Still with Becky.

 

Unconsciously her hand kept rising to her neck to touch the chain that held Becky’s gift. The memory of their exchange over it was still enough to make Bayley feel depressed. The haunted and haggard look in Becky’s eyes, the way she’d spoken. Bayley felt like the biggest villain in the world right now. It was a role she was just not meant to play. Some people like Becky or Sasha could power through such things, even gain strength from being the ‘bad guy’. Not Bayley.

 

Bayley wasn’t soft-hearted in any traditional sense. When pushed she never hesitated to stand her ground. She’d once stared down an angry Brock Lesnar while he threw a tantrum over a question she’d asked him. And she could be downright ferocious if she felt like someone was attacking one of her friends.

 

Maybe the term ‘kind-hearted’ would be more accurate. Bayley hated the idea of causing other’s pain, especially if they were close to her. In an odd way, she would shy from a confrontation with friends and family. This was demonstrated most aptly in her relationship with Sasha Banks. Rather than meet Sasha head-on in a confrontational manner, which would have only resulted in an argument that would have accomplished nothing she’d perfected a kind of ‘bend but not break’ method. Allowing people to rage themselves out while staying calmly within herself.

 

But that approach wouldn’t work here. Becky wasn’t mad, in fact, it would have been MUCH easier to deal with. Becky was hurt, and worse, she was hurting and she was spiraling. What made Bayley feel all the worse was that she was helpless in this situation. Because she was the cause of Becky’s current state, Becky wouldn’t allow her to help.

 

She blamed herself for this as well. It was selfish of her to be concerned about how helpless SHE felt. This was Becky’s crisis and not hers. But Bayley had allowed herself to be arrogant enough to take on the role of ‘problem solver’ for both Becky and Charlotte. And look how that had turned out for her. She’d very nearly lost Charlotte and now it seemed she’d lost Becky.

 

How could she let this happen?

 

Breaking another norm for herself, Bayley had a glass of wine on the flight. And then another. She was three in by the time she landed in LA. She’d hoped that the drinking might help raise her mood and allow the rest of the day to pass in a pleasant haze. She’d been wrong about this as well though, it was becoming something an unfortunate trend with her. Rather than lifting her mood, it just made her even more depressed.

 

It was a positively melancholy Bayley that slunk into the back of her rideshare. After giving her address, Bayley slouched in her seat and took out her phone. Still, no response from Becky, though she did have a few messages from Charlotte. It did manage to make her grin feebly to think that she and Charlotte were not only back on good terms, but that the other woman cared enough to reach out.

 

She also had another message from a number she didn’t initially recognize. Then she saw the area code and realized it could only be about one person. One of her sources that she’d cultivated while in Boston, specifically one to do with the hush-hush dealings Charlotte was having with Bob Orton. Bayley had forgotten about the issue because it had become irrelevant to the story she’d ended up writing about Becky. As such, she hadn’t contacted those sources for many weeks, so it was odd to see them reaching out now. Whatever the case she resolved to deal with it later as she started composing a message to Becky.

 

_Hey, Becks...I miss you and I wish I could make it so that night never happened. But I can’t so I just want to tell you that I love you and I will always be your friend and that you can always reach out to me._

 

_Love, Bayley_

 

She stared at this message for a long time, unsure if she should send it. She was worried she might be pushing Becky away by reaching out too often. But, in the end, she decided that she couldn’t handle not doing anything. So she sent the message and then started to read Charlotte’s messages.

 

Most were fairly generic expressions of support, which Bayley appreciated even if they didn’t make her feel any better. But there was something odd about the messages when viewed as a body. Extracting meaning from such things was part of Bayley’s job as a journalist so she did it automatically.  Charlotte’s messages told the tale of someone who was trying very hard to be supportive but was also under a great deal of strain.

 

For example, when she was trying to reassure Bayley, Charlotte’s messages were very friendly. Full of emojis and punctuation. Where there were misspellings they were obviously deliberate. But when Charlotte spoke about her day at the gym, things changed. The words were very clipped and precise. Grammatically impeccable and yet giving the impression that they were delivered through clenched teeth. Bayley decided she would call Charlotte when she got home. Not only was she worried, but it would also make her feel better to be useful.

 

She didn’t end up making the call.

 

When she got back home she leafed through her mail and then threw most of it away. Next, she turned on some music because she couldn’t stand the idea of being alone in silence. After that, she picked up the phone and dialed for some Clex’s delivery, and dealt with a surprisingly sullen and uncooperative employee. Which was odd because the restaurant was usually very friendly. Even the driver, when they arrived late, was cold to her. It was almost as though the company had somehow taken against her.

 

Or maybe she was just seeing sadness everywhere now.

 

Her next step was to call Emma and invite the other woman over the next day. She’d been horribly absentee to her friend as of late. It was only then that she noticed that one of the pieces of mail had fallen as she’d moved the pile. Picking it up she was surprised to see that it was addressed to ‘Bay’ and not ‘Bayley’. There were really only four people, aside from her parents, who called her that. And she wasn’t speaking with one of them.

 

Picking up the envelope she opened it, wondering if it could be some kind of weird tip. Reaching inside she drew out a pair of tickets. Turning them over, her eyes bugged out of her head as she saw they were courtside Warriors tickets. These must have cost a small fortune, well that ruled out Emma as the sender at least. Bayley’s friend was a Herpetologist specializing in large reptiles. She did very well, but not so well that she could splurge like this.

 

That left Charlotte or...

 

Bayley froze at this thought. The mail couldn’t have arrived today, she hadn’t gotten it yet. So it had probably been sent a few days ago at least. Her hand was quivering now as she reached into the envelope and drew out a small folded note. Unfolding it she read: 'Hope you can find someone to take’. But there was no signature. Unable to tear her eyes away from the note her shaking hand dug into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

 

“Call, Charlotte Flair,” she told it in a voice that threatened to break at any moment. It would be almost 4 AM on the East Coast, but she wasn’t aware of this at the moment. Or anything else. She listened as the phone rang.

 

Charlotte’s phone lit up her bedroom and woke the blonde from her sleep. Lethargically reaching to her bedside table and picking up the device. Briefly looking at the Caller ID before picking up. Her voice still heavy and slow with sleep. “Hello?”

 

Without bothering with any sort preamble Bayley asked: “Charlotte…?”

 

“Bayley… What are you calling for?” Her mind finally starting to wake up. “Did something happen? Are you alright?”

 

Bayley didn’t even hear her friends word as she spoke in a hollow voice: “Did...did you buy me, us, basketball tickets?”

 

“You called me at four in the morning to ask if I bought basketball tickets?” Charlotte’s tone incredulous and slightly annoyed.

 

“Charlotte!” Bayley said in a voice she hardly recognized. It was more of a desperate plea for reassurance than anything.

 

“Alright! Alright. No. I did not buy you basketball tickets. Happy?”

 

Bayley never answered, the phone just dropped from her hand at the same time as the envelope. The awful truth that she had suspected since seeing the tickets confirmed to her. Horror, sadness, and guilt welled up inside of her, threatning to make her burst.

 

Charlotte’s voice continued to buzz through the phone. “Bayley? What the hell was that? Bayley? Bay! This better not be some weird joke… Come on answer me Bay.”

 

**Becky**

 

Bayley had been gone for some time now and Becky had tried to refind her normal.

 

Her new studio apartment had almost no furniture other than a foldable rocking chair, a small table she had picked up at a local homegoods store, and a mattress she had shipped over and thrown onto the floor. Not bothering to set up the frame or headboard and opting to let it remain on the ground. Throwing on some high thread count and expensive black sheets she had found at the same store.

 

The only other thing she had bothered having set-up was a wireless modem so she could access the internet through the shiny new laptop that sat on the floor. Tiny speakers filling the room with two voices that sent her blood pressure skyrocketing dangerously high.

 

Back before her injury Becky had been one of the saviest fighters when it came to self promotion over social media. Using every platform to drive her name into the public consciousness with ease. After the injury her posting had become less creative and revolved mostly around Carmella. One her more infamous moments in her downward spiral being a ten minute long livestream from her phone where Becky was high on pain pills, drinking  and rambling about nothing with an equally smashed Carmella trying to get her attention by any means necessary.

 

Since her return to the ring Becky had made a concerted effort to avoid social media and try to focus on herself rather than uneducated opinions of her. But when she noticed her own name trending on a news outlet Becky couldn’t stop herself from finding out why.

 

Forcing herself to watch Mandy interview Carmella while her blood slowly worked up far past the boiling point.

 

 _“-that would mean Ms. Martinez has been lying to the media then. Correct?”_ Mandy’s voice serious and outraged.

 

 _“That’s right. When Becky came onto me I had no idea that they had been together for months. I was so angry at her for putting me in that position.”_ Carmella sounding every bit the aggrieved party. Her voice wavering so perfectly that Becky knew it had been practiced extensively prior to this interview.

 

 _“As one would.”_ Supplying her interviewee with a fresh tissue to dab at her damp eyes.

 

_“I just think that Bayley clearly deserves better than someone who would cheat at a great man’s funeral. Even if she is upset now I know one day she will thank me.”_

 

_“Coming forward is the only way to take the power away from women like Becky Lynch. You were incredibly brave to do so.”_

 

 _“Thank you. I really struggled with the decision to share my story.”_ Carmella made sure to flutter her eyes and give Mandy a grateful look. Pretending to blow her nose into a tissue before finding her best angle on the monitor behind the cameras.

 

 _“Thanks so much for your time and openness, Ms. Dale.”_ Mandy turned to directly address the camera, _“Before we leave today I would feel guilty if I didn’t ask the hard questions. I hate doing this to a fellow journalist but I_ _have to call into question Ms. Martinez’ journalistic integrity. It’s only logical to question what else she would be willing to lie about after her rebuffing of earlier rumors. If she would like, I would graciously extend an invitation to Martinez to come onto ‘The Rose Report’ and explain herself. Until next time this has be-”_

 

Becky slammed the lid of her laptop shut. Vibrating with barely restrained rage. Giving half a thought to chucking the laptop through a wall for that fleeting moment of catharsis before deciding that wouldn’t solve anything.

 

She had no idea which part of the interview angered her more. Every sentence was just more misinformation or attempted character assassination.

 

The urge to defend herself and Bayley from Carmella’s twisted version of reality had the Irish woman quickly jumping onto her phone and contemplating what to do.

 

A fresh layer of anger thrown on top when her first thought was to call Bayley and see what she wanted to do about this. But that would require Becky actually talking to her and it simply wasn’t going to happen in her current frame of mind. Even seeing red she knew talking to Bayley in her current mood would only lead to her saying something she would regret.

 

Early afternoon sunlight beamed in through her windows and heralded the arrival of an idea to set things right quickly.

 

After calling in a quick favor and dealing with an initially skeptical producer Becky got through to her target.

 

_“It’s already been a busy day here on the Hypecast, but we have a last minute call in that I couldn’t refuse. Becky Lynch joins us. Becky are you there?”_

 

“Of course.”

 

_“Considering the recent Rose Report I assume you have something you’d like to say.”_

 

Becky rolled her eyes and paced the length of her apartment. “No shit. Would you sit by and say nothing while someone lies about you on national television.”

 

_“By all means. The floor is yours, Becky. I appreciate you calling in even if it was completely unexpected.”_

 

“You were the only MMA show on live right now.” Becky deadpanned. “Just shut up and listen. I don’t know what her game is, but everything in that interview was a lie. Maybe Mella can’t take being rejected, but I don’t know and I don’t care.”

 

_Mojo tried to reign in the conversation, “Carmella said a lot in that interview. If she is lying; What actually happened?”_

 

Becky scoffed. “If? I know she is lying. For one: She came to Ric’s funeral in a dress that had less fabric than some swimsuits. If I had the choice I’d never see her again but she won’t let it go.”

 

_“We’re getting a bit off topic. What was she lying about?”_

 

The pacing stopped and Becky breathed in through her nose to try and calm herself. “She came onto me for starters. I’ve wanted nothing to do with her for over a year and that hasn’t changed.”

 

_“Alright. What about the rest of her claims? I have to admit that me and Bayley Martinez do have a professional relationship but I will be as objective as I can be. Bayley has been on this very show and rebuked the rumors that you two were in a… personal relationship. Carmella claims that you and Bayley confirmed to her that both of you have been an item for months.”_

 

Becky’s voice raised. “She didn’t do anything wrong.” Suddenly she wasn’t sure if she was speaking more to Mojo or herself. “She made a joke about us dating to get Carmella to stop screwing with me. She left and we went back to the funeral. That’s it.”

 

_“Is it possible Carmella thought the joke was actually genuine?”_

 

The question's wording tripped Becky up. Her mind automatically swapping out Carmella’s name for her own. “Only a completely oblivious moron would think that.” Pausing a moment before remembering herself and adding, “Even if she did believe the joke was real she still made up all that other crap.

 

_“So she-”_

_  
_ “And another thing!” Becky interrupted Mojo. “That blonde waste of space really needs to keep her mouth shut.”

 

_“Mandy Rose?”_

 

“YES MANDY FUCKING ROSE! Who else would I be talking about? Keep up Mojo Jojo. The Man is talking. I’m done listening to her lie about my life like she is the authority. The next time I see her she better run in the opposite direction.”

 

_“We are running a bit short on time but I want to make sure we clarify a point. I hate to ask, but I want to make sure to give you the final word on the subject. You and Bayley have not been together romantically at any point in time and she never lied when asked about it. Is that correct?”_

 

Becky swallowed and stopped pacing. “There was never anything romantic about it… She was nice to me when I hadn’t earned it. We became friends. Nothing more to it. I’m pissed that I even have to explain this. This entire story is like a TMZ nightmare. Even if we were together, what would be so bad about it? Huh? Why would it be so bad?” She asked while wishing she had the courage to ask who she really wanted to.

 

_“I’m-_

 

“It’s not even any of your business what the hell I do with my personal life.”

 

_“Becky-” Mojo tried to speak before being talked over._

 

“Why the fuck does anyone care anyways? Is me having a life that interesting?” Becky stopped to breathe for a moment after her rant. “I’m done.”

 

_“What do you mean-” Mojo started before the line abruptly disconnected._

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha was, for the first time in over a year, feeling self-conscious.

 

The keyword being that ‘Sasha’ was self-conscious. The Boss was never self-conscious, she owned every room she entered simply as part of the act of doing so. But Sasha was trying to bury the boss. And her errand today would hopefully help her accomplish this.

 

Despite not wearing the rings or glasses, Sasha still looked like the boss. Her jacket had cost several thousand dollars, and that was nothing on her boots. The whole look simply didn’t fit in the neighborhood she was in. In many ways, it reminded her of the streets around the Flair gym in Boston. The same cracked pavement, faded signs, and general air of neglect. The only difference being that at least this place was warm and sunny, so it had that at least. But if her clothes weren’t enough to indelibly mark her as an outsider...the magenta Lamborghini Aventador certainly was.

 

Her visit to this place hadn’t gotten off to a good start. The strip mall had a large sign in front of it that listed the business' present, but had somehow neglected to label them on the building itself. Sasha also privately doubted how up to date the sign was because most of the spaces seemed to be empty. But she guessed that her destination would be one of the two larger anchor spots on either end of the complex. So figuring she had a 50-50 shot to get it right on the first try, Sasha picked one.

 

She had chosen...poorly.

 

Upon stepping inside the building it had taken her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim light. But when they had it became very obvious that this couldn’t be a gym. The room was very large but it was mostly filled by long rows of folding tables with rickety chairs. There was some kind of dais on one side of the room and then a kind of cube on another wall. It took her another few moments to realize she might be in a bingo hall.

 

But she’d had no more time for quiet contemplation after that.

 

“ _Oye! ¿Eres la nueva chica?”_ a sharp voice had demanded of her. Whirling around she’d found herself facing a short, annoyed-looking, woman holding a carpet sweeper. Sasha had tried to learn some Spanish when she’d been friends with Bayley. But she’d found she just didn’t have a head for languages. All this to mean she’d only understood the word ‘ _chica’._

 

“Uh, I’m sorry I think I’m in the wrong place-” she started to say but then she got cut off.

 

“ _¡Llegas tarde! Te contraté para estar en un momento determinado! ¿Por qué debería pagarte si no haces tu maldito trabajo?”_ the short woman demanded, her eyes flashing.

 

“I’m just going to-” Sasha tried to explain as she pointed toward the door, only to take a quick step back as the woman hurried forward brandishing the carpet sweeper.

 

“ _¡Ponte a trabajar! ¡Ahora!”_ she snapped, once again trying to make Sasha take the sweeper.

 

“OK...bye,” Sasha said turning to leave. She was almost to the exit when something passed so close by her head that she felt it brush the top of her hair. A second later she saw something blue hit the wall in front of her. Looking down at it she realized it was a flip-flop.

 

“What the hell?” she asked, starting to get annoyed. But as soon as she started to turn another flip-flop hit her full in the face.

 

“ _¿No quieres trabajar? ¡Multa! ¡Salí! ¡Estás despedida!”_ the woman bellowed as she reached for her back pocket.

 

“Hey! Now just a damned-” Sasha said before being forced to duck behind a trash can as yet another flip-flop zipped through the air like a fastball. “WHY DO YOU HAVE MORE THAN TWO SHOES?!” Sasha demanded from behind her cover. When she finally managed to escape the building, it was only after being struck twice more.

 

So it was a slightly miffed Sasha that pushed into the other anchor section of the building. This was most definitely a gym, or maybe it had been. If the Flair gym had been a bit rundown, this one looked positively dilapidated. There only seemed to be three people present, two sparring in a ring that threatened to collapse at any moment, and third watching them. She was beginning to wonder if she’d gotten the wrong address when someone cleared their throat from behind her.

 

“Yeah?” a tall and extremely powerful looking man asked her testily.

 

“Are you Meng?” Sasha asked. She guessed this was who she’d come to see but she wasn’t sure.

 

“Who’s asking?” the man demanded. Sasha almost said something waspish like ‘you know damned well who I am’ but bit this back.

 

“I’m Sasha Banks,” she said, offering a hand that the man ignored.

 

“Yeah, I know who you are,” he grumbled as he turned to walk away.

 

Annoyed despite her best efforts, Sasha demanded: “Than why did you ask?”

 

Meng rounded on her and snarled: “Isn’t this my gym?”

 

“Yeah?” Sasha shot back, not flinching.

 

“Then I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he countered. Sasha narrowed her eyes at this, not so much at his words but at the realization that this was something she’d say. She didn’t speak as Meng walked away, she didn’t even react until his gruff voice cut across her thoughts.

 

“Are you coming or not?”

 

A minute later Sasha found herself sitting in an imbalanced chair in an office that was less than one eighth the size of her closet. For all of that, Meng had managed to cram an improbable amount of stuff into it. Sasha thought that any sudden movements might result in them both of them being buried under an avalanche of paper.

 

“What do you want?” Meng asked, sounding bored as he painstakingly typed something out on his ancient computer using two fingers.

 

Sasha had to bite back another retort before she said: “I wanted to ask you to train me?”

 

“Way I hear it, you don’t ‘ask’ for much Banks, ever.”

 

Sasha gritted her teeth before nodding and saying: “Maybe, but I AM asking you.”

 

“Why should I?”

 

Sasha blinked at this, thinking he might be asking about compensation she said: “Well, I can offer you generous terms-” But Meng cut her off with a loud snort.

 

“Not ‘how much’, why should I train you?” he demanded.

 

“I don’t understand the question.”

 

Meng gave her a pitying look before saying: “You had the best-damned trainer in the business, you might be talented Banks but you’re where you’re at because of Bobby Lashley. Then you dumped him and went with the fuck wit, Simon Dean. Why should I bother training someone who would rather have a spineless dumbass than a good trainer?”

 

Sasha clenched her fists at this reminder of her mistakes. She wasn’t mad at Meng, she was mad at herself. She knew full well that she’d thrown away a great thing on a temper tantrum, and now she was forced to try and find a new way.

 

“I made a mistake-” she began to say but Meng barked a laugh.

 

“I should fucking say so, you had the best god damn MMA trainer in the US and probably the world on hand and you pissed that away. Smart move ‘boss’,” Meng taunted. Sasha had to close her eyes and take a deep breath before she could answer.

 

“Well, you trained Lashley, didn’t you? Doesn’t that make you better?” she countered. But Meng just laughed again.

 

“Oh, is that your angle? You thought that old Meng would be able to outsmart his apprentice for you? This isn't a fucking movie Banks, wake up. I might have taught Bobby everything I know but he’s damn sure learned a lot more since then. So no, I’m not better than him,” he said derisively.

 

Sasha closed her eyes and said: “I need your help, sir, what can I do to get it?”

 

“SIR now is it? Did you ever extend that courtesy to Bobby I wonder?” Of course, maybe I’m giving him too much credit. He made you, so I’m sure he didn’t put his foot down hard enough early on before you turned into whatever you are now,” Meng mocked.

 

“Hey-” Sasha began to say but Meng pounded his desk for silence.

 

“No! You shut up for this part!...” he thundered “...But whatever mistakes he made with you I know he LOVED you. We talked and still talk and he was so proud of you. And unless you ARE as dumb as you seem then you had to know that. And you STILL tossed him aside. So I’m asking you again, why should I bother with the woman who did that to my friend?”

 

Sasha felt like hanging her head, but she didn’t. Narrowing her eyes challengingly she glared back at Meng and whispered challengingly: “Because if you were half the hardass YOU pretend to be, you’d want to do it just BECAUSE Bobby is the best in the world. You'd want to know if you could beat THAT.”

 

The silence that followed this remark was molten. And it stretched.

  
Meng broke it first.

 

“You have access to one of those high-end sports complexes right?” was all he asked.

 

Sasha was taken aback by the sudden change of subject but she answered saying: “Yeah...the Madjai center.”

 

“Then we’ll start there, tomorrow morning at three,” Meng said as he returned to his work. Sasha blinked again at this.

 

“I don’t think it’s even open at that time…” she said.

 

“You’re Sasha Banks aren’t you? GET IT OPEN,” Meng snapped.

 

“You don’t want to train me here?” Sasha asked, confused.

 

Meng sighed heavily as he removed his glasses and glared at her: “What did I say earlier Banks? This is isn’t the fucking movies! This isn’t the part where the old trainer shows you how we did it ‘back in the day. If you’ve got access to state of the art facilities, why the hell would I want to train you out of this hell hole?”

 

Sasha decided that the answer was fair enough.

 

On her way out to her car, her phone buzzed. Taking out of her pocket she looked at it and frowned. Why was Shane McMahon calling her? She got into her car, started it, and transferred the call to its console.

 

“I thought I didn’t meet your ‘professional standard’ or some shit,” was how she answered.

 

“You don’t, but since when do you care?” Shane McMahon answered without a hint of embarrassment. That wasn’t surprising, the man was utterly conscienceless.

 

“What do you want Shane?” Sasha asked as she slumped back against her seat.

 

“For us to get paid,” was the unhelpful answer.

 

“Oh yeah? How's that?” Sasha answered, determined not to be helpful.

 

“Banks vs Lynch two,” was all Shane said.

 

Sasha almost rocked backward at this. When she’d won the title off Lynch she’d initially always assumed there would be a rematch one day. But then Lynch had gone through her troubles and Sasha had forgotten about the idea. Even once the Irish fighter had resurfaced, she still hadn’t really thought about it. Lynch wasn’t her old self and Sasha, whatever her faults, was fully aware that she was on another level. Which awareness, she had to concede, probably caused all or most her problems.

 

But now, it was actually here.

 

Sasha knew enough about the business of what she did to know that the money on the line here would be...unprecedented. She could assert, with all humility, that she and Lynch were probably the two biggest personalities to ever happen to women’s MMA. The circus around this fight would be every bit as enormous as the purses would be. And for a moment, she was intimidated. Could she handle that? She, meaning Sasha Banks and not the Boss. Sasha desperately wanted to turn over a new leaf in life but the people would want the boss. And Sasha was concerned that if she let herself become the boss again, even a little, that she’d lose herself once more.

 

Was it worth the price?

 

It was only then that she realized she hadn’t been paying attention to Shane while she’d been thinking. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she said abruptly. Now it was Shane’s turn to fall silent for a long time. Long enough that Sasha had to ask: “Shane?”

 

“I just- wow...I’ve NEVER heard you say ‘I’m sorry’ before,” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

 

Sasha grimaced and just asked: “What did you say?”

 

“I said...” McMahon sounded testy now “...That if you both sign off I’m guessing we can bring in a new MMA record for money. But it’s going to involve the biggest press tour we’ve ever put on.”

 

This made Sasha even more concerned about her stability. The kind of pressure that would be applied…

 

“But I’m confident in saying we could see a number north of four million dollars to the winner,” McMahon added.

 

Sasha licked her lips as she stared at the car’s screen.

 

It was decision time.

 

“I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola everyone! For those of you already angry at us for being mean to Becky after last chapter... Sorry. Hope you aren't too mad. 
> 
> Becky just can't catch a break can she. But she also may have caught a little bit of the asshole bug that has affected everyone in this story. (Besides Bayley of course)
> 
> Charlotte is actually showing signs of being a decent human being again. Is this a character change doomed to fail or can Charlotte continue to deal with the minefield of Becky Lynch and not end up losing a game she really can't afford to lose. 
> 
> Bayley... What is there to say. We're evil. If anyone was able to guess why Becky cancelled her flight plans or even came close I would be impressed. Just when Bayley is home and you think everything is hunky dory Becky's damn romantic tendencies come back to bite her in the ass. 
> 
> Sasha was a mixed bag. She keeps trying to stick to her whole 'being a better person' routine but its not as easy as it seemed. 
> 
> And what sort of craziness will go down now that Banks vs Lynch 2 is looming? How will both fighters react to being involved in such a high profile event with and unprecedented amount of hype and pre-fight promotion? All questions that we have answers too, but you won't see until next chapter. So until then, goodnight and good luck.


	12. Chapter 12: One Step Forward...

“I have to admit-” Becky started around a mouthful of noodles, “I’ve no idea why you came back for this.” Finally swallowing her food with a satisfied slurp. “I ain’t upset though.”

 

Bayley half snorted as she fed a noodle into her own mouth. She was very inexpert with chopsticks but felt she was too old to admit this now, so she just white knuckled it when it came up. When she finally managed to eat the morsel she gave Becky a smile and said: “Me either...but...when you know you made a mistake…” She couldn’t finish the thought so she looked down.

 

Becky couldn’t help the smile from stretching her face to it’s limit. “I’m just glad you’re secure enough to admit it.” Using her own chopsticks to pick out a piece of sauce covered chicken goodness and toss it up into the air. Perfectly catching the falling delicacy with her mouth in triumph. Wiggling her eyebrows at the other woman and grinning like an idiot.

 

Bayley sighed as she began the painstaking process of trying to fish another noodle out of the box she was holding. “No one likes a show off Lynch,” she muttered, but good naturedly. Then she looked around and added: “So...was it hard to get reservations here?”

 

After a quick surveyance of the empty gym Becky laughed and stretched her legs out across the mat closer to the brunette. “Really hard. Had to wait until it closed and everything.” Their place in the middle of the ring felt like a sort of spotlight. Nothing else in the room mattered right now. “Nice change of pace from when I’m normally here. You wouldn’t believe it, but working out is really tiring… And there’s not as much eye candy. Ruby just about took me head off when I put the moves on Liv back when I first got here.”

 

Bayley rolled her eyes but moved her own foot closer to Beckys as she looked down at her food for a moment. When she brought it back up she had a mouthful of noodles half hanging out and her eyes crossed. She held the face for a moment before the giggles began and that threatened to choke her until she dropped most of the noodles back into the box.

 

“Do I intrigue you now darling?” she asked in a ridiculous accent as she flipped her hair.

 

Becky nearly choked on her food from laughing. “Well you’ve gone and done it. Now I have a new fetish.” She shook her head and frowned. Pretending to look upset. “Whatever will I do?”

 

Bayley shrugged as she went back to her painstaking ‘one noodle per dip’ pace and said: “I don’t know, toss it on the pile right on top of latinas?” She punctuated this remark with a wink.

 

“That one’s your fault by the way. And maybe it’s not all latinas, just one _chica_ in particular.” Becky bounced back.

 

Bayley smiled shyly at this one, suddenly at a loss for words. Looking down again she set her food aside and asked: “Even after...you know…”

 

The words almost had Becky crashing back down to earth. “Well… seems like you figured things out. Can’t hold the past against you. You never held mine against me.”

 

Bayley smiled at her food before scooting closer to Becky, until she was sitting beside her. Resting her head on the fighter’s shoulder she said: “Never”

 

Becky just let herself enjoy the moment. Basking in a feeling she had given up on. “This is perfect. You’re perfect… Feels like a dream.” She admitted and let her own head rest against Bayley’s. Both women’s food forgotten at their feet.

 

Bayley laced her fingers in Beckys and gave a squeeze. “If it is, then it’s the best kind,” she whispered as she turned her head. Freeing her hand she turned Becky’s face to hers, staring deeply into her eyes.

 

An uncommon assault of nerves hit Becky right then. She had never had a problem kissing someone but right now she had to avoid Bayley’s gaze for a few moments.

 

Becky gathered herself enough to look back up and violently pulled away from the other woman. Creating a small distance between before she froze.

 

“What the fuck?” Becky loudly exclaimed.

 

“What would you do without me Becky? Starve?” Sasha Banks asked with an expression that mixed derision and scorn on her face.

 

Becky’s head whirled around to search the empty gym for any sign of her disappearing companion. Gritting her teeth at the familiar words. “Fuck you. BAYLEY!” She called out into the darkness around the ring. “Where in the hell…”

 

“As if she could EVER love you!” Sasha mocked. When Becky turned around to confront her, the other woman hit her boss pose before lowering her sunglasses.

 

“What the hell would YOU know!” Becky yelled back. All rational thought gone at this point.

 

But now Sasha was gone, even as her voice whispered in Becky’s ear: “You’re bad for her...you don’t deserve her.”

 

Becky spun around with her fists held high only to be met with nothing but air. Her breathing slowly began to pick up with her heartbeat. “What?”

 

Sasha was gone and she found herself facing Finn Balor. “You’ll push her away, just like you pushed me away!” he snapped.

 

Her fists fell lifelessly to her sides. “Finn? I-” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I know better this time.”

 

“I thought we were friends Lynch, we were supposed to be there for each other!” Balor accused before he melted away to be replaced by Dave Finlay.

 

“You were like a daughter to me Becks, now look at you?” the old trainer said with a sad shake of his head.

 

Becky was almost pulling out her hair at this point. Hands shaking as she stared at her former family. “I’ve been trying.” Becky weakly gave. Her head tilting downwards from the scolding that part of her felt was deserved.

 

Hands slid down Becky’s shoulders from behind, sliding toward her chest as Carmella purred in her ear: “Forget them all baby, you know you’ll come back to me soon.”

 

The way she said it felt so inevitable that Becky couldn’t think of a response. Shuddering from the attention as her eyes drifted shut. With a burst of strength that came from somewhere unknown Becky took a step forward and broke the contact. Whirling around to yell at Carmella and seeing no sign of her former flame. “Where the ‘ell.”

 

Bayley was standing there now, though not looking at Becky. She seemed to be having an animated conversation with someone else, looking away from the fighter. As Becky watched, her own voice said: “You’d just ruin her.”

 

Becky wanted to reach out but couldn’t. Helplessly watching Bayley as she stood there unmoving. “But…” She started a rebuttal but couldn’t come up with one that didn’t feel lacking.

 

When she finally got the courage to extend her hand towards Bayley it was like trying to catch smoke. Every inch she extended further never seeming to get her any closer.

 

“Let her go.” Becky heard the words in her own voice and spun around to try and find where they were coming from.

 

She half expected it at this point but she found nothing. Even Bayley’s figure had faded away and left her standing all alone in the ring.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Becky looked out to ringside and saw Charlotte Flair in all her glory. Staring up at her with arms crossed over her chest and a disapproving glare. “What?”

 

“Keep your hands up.” Charlotte calmly spoke.

 

“Wh-” Becky started only for the lights to suddenly turn on and be confronted with a fist about to slam into her face.

 

Becky’s eyes shot open as her body reflexively moved to try and dodge the phantom punch. The bed beneath her shaking slightly from the jolting movement.

 

Her breathing slowly returned to normal as Becky went through the process of realizing that it had all been a dream.

 

Automatically her arm reached over the the small bedside table she had set up and grabbed her phone. Her first instinct to allay her anxiety was an obvious no go, and even as she thought about calling Charlotte of all people Becky was already finding excuses not to call; It’s too late, They wouldn’t want to be bothered, You can handle it.

 

She quickly accepted the fact that sleep would continue to elude her and Becky went into her files and opened a video on her phone.

 

Propping up the screen so that she could lay down and watch the now permanently embedded images play out.

 

She had an excuse for rewatching this fight. After all, what better film to study on your opponent that the last fight you had with them.

 

After about forty minutes Becky sighed and sat up. Turning off the video and tossing her phone over her shoulder without a care for where it lands.

 

Within five minutes her laptop was displaying the old fight with Sasha as Becky sat on the floor with rapt attention. Convinced that she would find something that she had been missing in the footage. Anything to explain the greatest failure in her career.

 

Even when the sun started to creep across Becky’s floor she had gotten no closer.

 

Deep down she knew there was nothing to find.

 

**Bayley**

 

“Come on in,” a voice called through the door as Bayley knocked. Taking a deep breath, and checking her hair and outfit once more, Bayley opened the door and stepped into the familiar office.

 

California sun streamed in through the large windows along one wall as Bayley surveyed the room. It wasn’t what you might expect for the office of a sports editor. The room was very neat, clean, and furnished in a sleek way that almost encouraged the eye to roam around the space. Aside from the desk and computer the only other furniture were two chairs in front of the desk, and an honest to god jukebox in the corner. The only indication that it was inhabited by a member of the sports media were the framed posters and photos of various athletes and events, most containing the man behind the desk.

 

AJ Styles stood from his chair and offered Bayley his hand as she approached, which she shook. Styles was one of ESPN.com’s editors, he’d cut his teeth in baseball and college football but had recently taken charge of the network’s online MMA coverage. There had been some in the MMA world, Bayley among them, who had been skeptical about this choice. But Styles had really worked to learn about his new sport and had done well to expand its mainstream coverage.

 

“Ms. Martinez, thanks for coming in,” Styles said in his gentle Georgia drawl, which he’d never lost despite his years in national media.

 

“No problem, nice to actually be in the office for once,” Bayley offered with a smile as she sat across from AJ. For his part, he smiled at the joke but didn’t respond as he settled himself. He seemed to be studying Bayley, and she forced herself to meet his gaze evenly.

 

“So you’re one of our smarter writers, you know why you’re here,” he finally said as he picked a baseball up off his desk and began throwing it from hand to hand.

 

“I...can guess,” Bayley allowed. Styles raised an eyebrow at this.

 

“Is it true?” was all he asked. Bayley sighed inwardly. She’d been doing but trying to repair the damage that Carmella Dale had done to her reputation over the last few days. Well, Carmella had been the weapon but Mandy Rose had wielded it.

 

“No,” was all Bayley said in reply. She made sure to add some steel to her voice as well. She was getting tired of answering this question. Styles seemed to sense this because he nodded slowly.

 

“I didn’t think it was…” he admitted “...but I know you’re an honest person so I wanted to ask you.”

 

“I appreciate that.”

 

“BUT…” Styles said as the baseball stopped in one hand “...that doesn’t change my problem. You know this as well as I do Martinez, perception is reality in this business.” Bayley stewed for a moment at this answer. She wanted to argue but she happened to agree with Styles on this point.

 

“So that’s what this is? My trip to the guillotine?” she asked.

 

“No...well not necessarily,” Styles answered.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means you’re smart enough to know what the easy move for me is here. I should just cut bait and let you go. You’re not even officially employed, just a stringer, so I can do that easy,” Styles answered but with a particular inflection at the end of the statement.

 

“And yet, here I am when that could have been done via an email,” Bayley pointed out.

 

“And here you are,” Styles nodded. He stared down at the baseball for a while before he added: “This isn’t your execution Bayley, this is me asking you to give me a reason to NOT hold one.”

 

Bayley had guessed this might be the case when she’d gotten the summons from Styles. She’d been writing in a freelance capacity for ESPN MMA for a few weeks now and doing OK for herself out of it. It was a good way to keep MMAyley growing while boosting her own profile. During that time she’d learned that Styles was demanding and a perfectionist, but he was also scrupulously fair to his writers. Even stringers like Bayley. Which couldn’t be said about all editors.

 

Styles’ dilemma centered around the recent interview on the Rose Report. Carmella had not only smeared Becky during that interview but had also allowed Mandy Rose to call Bayley’s reputation into question from the biggest platform in MMA. The suggestion that Bayley had gotten where she was by sleeping with Becky had been more than personally wounding but had also called into question ALL of the work she’d done in Boston and since.

 

On a personal level, those who knew Bayley well wouldn’t be worried. But when it came to to professional questions the issue got muddier. Outlets had to think about their own reputations now before accepting her by-line or stories originating from her site. The question would always be there now: could she be trusted to report on Becky Lynch. And, by extension, anyone else? She’d already lost two formerly productive relationships for MMAyley.com, both being run by people less equitable than Styles.

 

But fair though he might be, Styles still had a brand to protect. In many ways, because ESPN was so big and corporate, he had to be even more protective than others. Being aware of this, Bayley knew that the deck was stacked against her. But she did at least have a chance. She took a few moments to gather her thoughts before answering.

 

“First, there is the small matter of the fact that allegations are 100% untrue. I have never been romantically involved with Becky Lynch. It’s like I’ve been telling people, we are friends and I happily admit that. I don’t see how anyone could have gotten to know her like I have and NOT end up liking her. But you’ve read my stuff that I filed from Boston, did it seem like I was giving her a break?” Bayley asked Styles.

 

“Nope,” Styles acknowledged.

 

“But I know that’s not going to mean much here,” Bayley added, after studying his face.

 

“Sadly, no it doesn’t.”

 

“So I’ll add that Rose’s ‘reporting’ is suspect here. She has no source for this claim other than Carmella Dale, a woman who has admitted to going through a bad breakup with Becky. No one else corroborates her version of events and, in fact, both other people present deny it. There is also the fact that Mandy has a history of hit pieces against me,” Bayley said.

 

“What do you mean?” AJ asked, perplexed. So Bayley explained the whole Enzo Amore situation to him, including Rose’s actual role in it.

 

“But you have no proof of this,” he asked.

 

“No, which is why I haven’t ever pursued it...because I actually hold myself to a professional standard,” Bayley answered.

 

“Touche.”

 

“I’ll also point out that since I’ve been writing for you my stories have all been generating great traffic. The one with the fewest hits before this had over five thousand clicks, that’s a lot of eyeballs on ESPN content. I can also flatter myself that my social media mentions and other appearances mentioning the site have been good for you,” Bayley pointed out.

 

“True, but I need a PR strategy that lets us come out of this clean, the fact that we’ve benefitted from you hurts us if people decide that Carmella was right,” AJ pointed out.

 

“True…” Bayley said with a raised finger “...BUT there is a big win here for you to if you want it.”

 

Styles grinned as she leaned back in his chair and tossed the baseball at Bayley saying: “Sell me.”

 

Bayley caught the ball and said: “Now that Mandy has run her hit piece, there will be a short window where everyone is making up their minds. If, during that time, ESPN MMA were to get an exclusive sit down with me to share my story...that would get you a lot of pub.”

 

“It could also be seen as us favoring one of our own,” Styles pointed out. But Bayley had an answer ready for this objection.

 

“True, but that’s why you should have it done on TV or radio. That way it’s someone outside your department who can be positioned as asking the hard questions,” Bayley offered. Styles thought about this for awhile before he asked the logical question.

 

“I assume you have a show or interviewer in mind?” he asked knowingly.

 

“Two options…” Bayley offered “...First, it would mean the world to deportes if they got this.” She suggested this but wasn’t surprised when Styles shot it down.

 

“I get it, but we both know that my bosses will want it somewhere else,” he admitted. Bayley had expected this answer but had thought it worth a shot to suggest the spanish language network anyway.

 

“What was the second option?”

 

“Porter’s show, I’ve been on it before and we got along,” Bayley suggested. Styles thought about this quietly for awhile, as he stared out the window.

 

“I notice you didn’t suggest the Rose report,” he finally said.

 

“Would you want to go to the sight of your national character assassination?”

 

“Maybe not...but it would be the biggest ratings,” Styles pointed out. This was true but Bayley simply wasn’t going to be doing Mandy Rose any favors.

 

Setting her face, preparing for the worst, she said: “If you’re going to tell me that it has to be the Rose Report then I’ll save you the trouble of firing me and I’ll quit myself and go on some other show to tell my story.”

 

“Alright, alright, no call for that…” Styles said as he held up his hands “...I’ll pitch this idea and support it. I think my bosses will for go for it,” He said. But when he saw Bayley’s smile he held up a hand and cautioned: “BUT, this is your shot Martinez. If this doesn’t go the right way I have to let you go with all good will in the world.”

 

“I understand,” Bayley said as she tossed the baseball back across the desk and left.

 

**Becky/Charlotte**

 

“Do I have to?”

 

Charlotte threw the car into park while rolling her eyes at the passenger. “Yes.”

 

The redhead continued to silently stew in her seat. “It was one night. Is this really-”

 

“YES!” Charlotte sternly exclaimed. Closing her eyes at the familiar denial. “You don’t get to say ‘it was just one night’.”

 

“Fine… If it will make you feel better.” Becky snapped out before bolting out of the car and slamming the door closed.

 

Charlotte used the privacy to take a few breaths and calm herself down. It was no use getting mad at Becky when she was like this. Getting irritated would only give the antagonistic redhead a target for her misplaced ire and make things worse.

 

At times like this she really wished that Bayley could somehow give direct advice into her ear. Charlotte had tried to in some way replicate the easy raport that Bayley had with Becky before everything turned sideways. But at times like this she felt like the roadmap she was trying to follow was missing pieces, or something vital had been erased.  

 

She left the car and found that Becky was waiting just outside the door of the building. Hands dug deep in her jacket pockets as she stared at the building like it was an opponent in the ring.

 

Neither exchanged any words. Charlotte walking right past and holding the door open for her fighter. A gesture that was clearly unexpected even if Becky quickly hid her surprise behind a mask of indifference and walking by.

 

Charlotte followed the fighter inside and walked down the hall. Becky following a few steps behind.

 

When she reached the now familiar door Charlotte pulled it open and once again held it open.

 

This time Becky managed to mumble, “Thanks.” Moving inside and raising an eyebrow at the receptionist who was openly gawking at her. “Take a picture.” Looking on in disbelief as the redhead actually started reaching for her phone. “I wasn’t being serious lass.”

 

Even Charlotte was shaking her head, “Really Christy? I told you she was coming and you said you’d be fine.”

 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t met many celebrities.” Christy doing her best to sink deeper into her chair and hide. “Molly should be out in a minute.”

 

“Thanks Christy.” Charlotte said and put one of her hands in the middle of Becky’s back to guide her into the waiting room and away from the other woman. The blonde hadn’t liked the way Christy was looking at her fighter. Like she was an animal in a zoo or a shiny object in a shop window.

 

Becky allowed it for only so long before quickly turning and leaving Charlotte’s hand awkwardly hovering in the air for just a second. “So… you know her?”

 

Charlotte glared down the at shorter woman and stood tall. “Yep.”

 

The redhead’s eyes shifted into slits. “Mind me asking how?”

 

Charlotte was quiet for a moment. “Because I’ve been coming here on my own.”

 

The implication made Becky stop her act of indifference. It was a rare case indeed when she couldn’t find the right words, but after how standoffish the two had been, Charlotte opening up and being so vulnerable in front of her felt odd. The only other time it had happened was after she had caught her and Ric watching a movie in her office. Both times Becky found herself wanting to reach out while simultaneously wanting to run.

 

Before she had a chance to choose a door opened behind Becky and a new voice spoke up. “Hey there Charlotte. I can only assume you must be the infamous Becky Lynch.” The friendly woman said with a bright smile, “Forgive me for not being sure. I’m not a big fan of the whole UFC fighting.”

 

“It’s mixed martial arts.” Becky bit out. “UFC is an organization. That’s like calling it ‘MLB’ instead of baseball.”

 

Charlotte gave Molly an apologetic look but the still smiling woman waved her off. “Honest mistake. I’ll keep that it mind though. Thanks for clarifying that for me.”

 

Becky honestly didn’t know how to respond. She got used to people returning her insulting tone with more negativity. Molly taking it in stride was frustrating. It took Becky a moment to realize who she was reminded of. Her mood souring immediately.

 

Charlotte began to back off. “Well I’ll just leave you two. I’m gonna be busy for a while so Ruby or Liv should be here in an hour or so.”

 

“Cool.” Was all Becky said while nodding her head and bouncing almost imperceptibly light on her feet.

 

It was tempting to just leave but Charlotte motioned with her head at Molly and the woman seemed to understand. “I will just be in my office. Come on in when you’re ready Ms. Lynch.” Walking off and leaving the door slightly ajar.

 

Becky shuffled her feet a little but was in no rush to follow. One of her hands idly picking at a loose thread in the new pair of jeans she had bought yesterday.

 

Gently as she could, Charlotte reached over and grabbed the hand. Moving it away from the thread and holding it softly in her own. “No one expects you to be fine in a day. Just take it slow.”

 

The other woman nodded and looked down at their hands.

 

Charlotte gave her a half smile. Indulging in the contact for longer than she should and gently pulling away. “I’ll see you back at the gym later.”

 

When the blonde had left her eyesight Becky let out the breath she had been holding. Trying not to let the stolen warmth in her hand distract her.

 

She had already lost Bayley because she misread things. That couldn’t happen again.

 

**Sasha**

 

“I’m old! I don’t have time for this!” Meng screamed from across the field.

 

 _“_ _Kuso yarō,”_ Kairi Sane gasped from beside Sasha. The pair had been running around the track outside the Madjai for almost half an hour now. This was in addition to the intensive training Sasha had been at since a little after three in the morning. It was now nine thirty.

 

Sane, the newest signing to, Thuggin and Buggin, was there to help Sasha train while soaking up any wisdom that Meng graced them with. That was the theory, but so far the old bastard only seemed interested in trying to work them to death. But Sasha was game, if he was testing her then she’d shove it right back in his face. Eventually.

 

Sasha had been working with the old trainer for a week now, and she had to admit she somewhat forgotten what proper training was like. Her time with Simon Dean had simply proven the old adage about why you shouldn’t train on your own, lest you ingrain your bad habits. And she had been training alone during that time, even when Dean had been present. Now she was being reminded how different the proper way was.

 

They’d begun the morning an extremely intensive cardio warmup of interval training along the interior track at the Madjai center. Sasha was in terrific shape by the standards of almost anyone in the world. Unfortunately for her, one of the people who didn’t think so was now one of her trainer.

 

“You’ve gotten lucky and thus spoiled so far in your career Banks!” Meng called to her as she’d rounded the track for the twentieth time. “You’ve always been able to put people away quickly, but that won’t always be true and you can damn sure bet that Lynch will be in the best shape of her life for this fight. If you want to win you need to be able to go the distance!” hed’ added when she’d passed him again. Sasha wanted to point out that she already could go the distance but she needed her breath.

 

Next had come work with the bags. As striking was, by far, the strongest part of Sasha’s game she generally enjoyed these sessions. Despite this, she had been expecting the harshest criticism of all from Meng on this point. She thought he’d come in and immediately try to knock her down a peg on her strengths in order to assert his control. Yet despite his prick like demeanor in general, he’d surprised her here.

 

“Good,” was all he said. Some of Sasha’s surprise must have shown on her face however because he asked: “Did you think I was going to criticize you just to criticize you?”

 

“Well, yeah. You’ve been nothing but an ass so far,” Sasha said matter of factly. Meng barked a laugh at this.

 

“Maybe, but this isn’t-” he started to say but Sasha cut him off.

 

“-The movies, yeah I get it,” she muttered.

 

“It’s not…” Meng shot back “...You’re as good as Lashley always said. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other areas we can shine up.”

 

Sane had arrived around then, and after introductions that took awhile due to the presence of Sane’s translator, Meng had them spar. This was the first time that Sasha had really trained with Sane, despite the fact that woman had been on the team for over a month. Early on this had been a result of her visa status. But once that had cleared it up it had been more an issue of the fact that the team didn’t really have a trainer. Sasha had made some fleeting moves towards training with her but really, Sane had been left on the beach.

 

This fact was enough to make Sasha feel very guilty, as she should have since it was her fault. Had Sasha been less of an idiot, the Japanese star could have been learning from Bobby Lashley. And this feeling of regret had been yet another test of her resolution to be better. In the past, she would have gone ‘boss’ about the issue and probably made a comment about not having time to be a babysitter. But now, she was going to be different.

 

So even as they began to spar, Sasha tried to help.

 

Sane was a very talented fighter, and Sasha was aware just how lucky Thuggin and Buggin had been to get her in the camp. But, and she felt comfortable saying this, Sasha was much better. This meant she had advice to offer the younger fighter, and she did her best to do so while still concentrating on Meng’s instructions to her. Here again the old man surprised her, he’d expected him to bark at her for splitting her attention. But he seemed to approve of her teaching.

 

This didn’t mean he went any easier on either of the fighters however. They spent half an hour just dancing in the ring before Meng really began to test Sasha. He had Sasha plant one foot in place and then allowed Sane to move around her, forcing Sasha to defend herself without her mobility. This proved as difficult as one might imagine and it turned into more of an issue of Sasha’s ability to judge which attacks needed to be blocked and which absorbed. The session got even more esoteric after that.

 

Weight training had come after that, and now here they were on the outdoor track. Before this, Sasha and Kairi simply hadn’t had much time to speak since they’d been so busy. Now wasn’t much better because they were once again in need of every bit of oxygen they could come by. But their respite came in the form of Teddy Long.

 

“Hey playas!” he called as she walked toward them from the direction of the building. His usual white suit seemed to gleam in the sun.

 

“We’re working here,” Meng called back, obviously miffed.

 

“Hey, easy there playa. I see that, but I gotta talk business with the ladies and it’s business that pays for the training you know,” Teddy said with a grin as he wiped at the sweat on his gleaming scalp.  Both Sasha and Kairi had come to a halt and waited, trying to catch their breath as Teddy joined them followed a moment later by Meng.

 

“Can we make this quick,” Meng grumbled. Teddy ignored him and spoke to Sasha.

 

“Shane just got in touch, he wants to do a big formal contract signing for you and Lynch. He’s thinking right here in LA, you got any problem with that playa?” he asked.

 

“No, that’s OK,” Sasha said with a shrug. Shane did love his set piece events.

 

“This is going to be the toughest press tour you’ve ever done Sasha, so prepare for it. We’re going to start the build for the signing soon. I was thinking we’d get you onto the Rose Report and-”

 

“No,” Sasha said flatly. When Teddy just looked inquiringly at her she added: “I’m not doing her show.

 

“She’s the biggest name in MMA media-” Teddy pointed out but Sasha just shook her head.

 

“She’s a bitch and I’m not doing her show….ever,” Sasha said with finality. She’d heard about the reports relating to Carmella Dale’s appearance on the show and she’d been furious. First and foremost on Bayley’s behalf. She and the reporter might not ever speak again but Sasha knew her well enough to know that she would never sleep with someone for a story. Sasha had been the first one to learn how seriously the journalist took her professional ethics.

 

But on a more personal level, Sasha had recognized something that could very well happen to her. Carmella had absolutely been to Becky, what Zelina had once been to her. It would be at all surprising if she ended up in the same situation as Lynch at some point. And it was this reminder of their similarities, something Sasha loathed, that had really angered her.

 

Teddy clearly sensed something else was going on here but chose not to argue. Shrugging her said: “Alright, we’ll book with Porter then.”

 

“AND I want Kairi on the show as well,” Sasha insisted. Teddy frowned at this. He obviously was all in favor of anything that gave more publicity to his newest fighter, but he unused to Sasha thinking of others.

 

Sane, who had been doing her best to follow this, seemed to perk up at her name. From what little Sasha had been able to glean, Sasha guessed that while she understood enough English she was far from fluent and less than comfortable speaking the language. FOrtunately, her translator stepped in here with a string of rapid Japanese. When he’d finished speaking, Kairi smiled and said: “Thank you” to Sasha.

 

Sasha smiled tightly and nodded back. It was at that moment that something vague in the back of her head solidified to a certainty. She decided that part of her being better would be her looking out for Kairi Sane. It had been so long since Sasha had looked for anyone but her, that she felt she needed the practice. But it was more than that as well. On some level Sasha felt that if she could help Kairi, be a better human to her, then she might be able to help herself.

 

**Bayley**

 

“Well, that was a bust,” Bayley said as the car stopped.

 

“It wasn’t all that bad, I really think I’m learning about the game at least,” Emma said from beside her, obviously trying to be reassuring. Bayley appreciated this but wasn’t really in the mood.

 

“What’s the difference between a strike and a ball?” Bayley asked her in a half tired, half bemused voice. Emma frowned, clearly trying her best to remember this fact which Bayley had explained to her several times before.

 

“OK, I don’t remember that…” Emma conceded grudgingly “...But I DID have a good time...at first.”

 

Bayley and Emma had just gotten back from a Dodgers game, or most of one. Bayley had been spending more time with her friend recently partially because she felt guilty about neglecting Emma but mostly because with Emma there was no drama. Things could just be fun and uncomplicated and Bayley really needed more of that in her life right now.

 

It was a perfect day for baseball too, bright and sunny but not too hot. Bayley had been looking forward to a day at the park with her friend and maybe drinking one too many beers since Emma had driven. But, things hadn’t worked out that way.

 

It had started about halfway through the third inning. Emma and Bayley had been sitting in the lower deck, it was a midday game so the tickets had been cheap, only about five rows up. They’d been chatting happily, Bayley trying to explain the finer points of the game. Then a gruff voice had cut in from behind them.

 

“Hey!” a large man two rows behind them barked before giving Bayley an appraising look that made her decidedly uncomfortable. Then the man, who seemed a bit drunk, nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know you! You’re that reporter girl! Menendez.”

 

Assuming this was a prelude to some drunken cat calling, Bayley sighed and said: “Close enough” before turning back to the game. She had a standing policy where she simply refused to engage with people like this,

 

“Yeah, the one who’s fucking Becky Lynch,” the man laughed as he elbowed his companion and pointed down toward Bayley.

 

“Very nice,” Emma shot back acidly, glaring at the man.

 

“Tell me! Is she as red below as she is above,” the man hooted.

 

“I’m going to get security,” Emma declared, Bayley just nodded tersely and tried to focus on the game. Emma left and came back a few minutes later with an usher but this didn’t stop the problem. When the man and his friend were confronted by the usher he began shouting.

 

“What? I paid for my damn ticket, little miss dyky down there can’t handle a little fun?” he demanded. Now the eyes of the whole section were turning towards him. These same eyes then turned toward Bayley as he began gesticulating down toward her in his anger. “I just asked her a question! You gonna kick a guy out for asking a fucking question?”

 

Standing abruptly, Bayley grabbed her bag and jacket and hurried up the stairs toward the exit. As she went the man and several other people spoke to her.

 

“ _Oye chica, quieres ver lo que te has estado perdiendo de un hombre de verdad…”_

 

“I will pray for you,”

 

“Slut!”

 

Bayley was embarrassed, but more than that she was furious. Not only was she being called out for something that wasn’t true, but so what if it had been? But Bayley knew that now, more than ever, she had to be on her best behavior if she wanted to keep her ESPN gig. If she tried to get into a shouting match with the whole section there was a one thousand percent chance that it would end up on the internet. And even though she thought Styles liked her personally, that would be all the reason he needed to can her.

 

So, face still burning, Bayley had led the way back to Emma’s car. Now here they were, though she had calmed down by now.

 

“I’m sorry about how things turned out Bay,” Emma said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

 

“Not your fault at all Em,” Bayley responded as she leaned over and gave her friend a big hug. “Any chance I get to spend time with you is good,” she added as she squeezed Emma’s shoulder.

 

“What about that time in Tijuana?”

 

“OK, not THAT time,” Bayley laughed as she got out of the car.

 

“Want to get brunch this weekend?” Emma asked from inside the car.

 

“Sure, text me,” Bayley smiled before turning to walk toward the entrance to her building. Charlotte had once said that Bayley made others around her feel better, but Emma did that for Bayley. She was still kind of pissed, but now she wasn’t dwelling on it constantly at least.

 

As Bayley walked, her phone began to buzz. Her conscience was obviously still a bit raw because she suddenly felt guilty. As though she somehow thought it would be AJ calling to rebuke her for the incident at the ballpark. But when she looked she saw an unfamiliar number. She was tempted to ignore it but then decided it might be a producer from Porter’s show.

 

“Hello, this is Bayley,” she said as she answered.

 

“Ms. Martinez? This is Alexa Bliss, I’m calling on the request of Charlotte Flair,” a brusque and businesslike voice answered. Bayley frowned even as she stomach tightened a bit. She guessed she might always associate Alexa Bliss with that horrible afternoon when Charlotte had first sent Bayley away from Boston.

 

“Uh...hi Alexa? Why would Charlotte want you to call me?”

 

“She’s heard about your impending appearance with Montel Porter on his TV show, evidently she believes you’d benefit from media coaching,” Alexa explained, sounding wholly clinical about her pronouncement. Bayley thought about resenting this for a moment. After all, she’d been doing media hits for awhile and had always felt she did fine. But then she remembered that Alexa was probably the best person in the country at what she did if not the world. ‘Good’ or not, Bayley knew Alexa was better at this.

 

Though there was still the elephant in the room.

 

More to give herself time to think that anything, Bayley asked: “Why would Charlotte want you to coach me? I thought your job was to look after Becky.”

 

“Technically, my job is to do what Ms. Flair asks me to do. If she wants to pay me to coach you then I will,” Alexa stated in a flat tone that seemed to indicate she thought the matter closed.

 

Bayley bit her lip as she thought for a moment and then said: “So...this could be a little awkward though huh?”

 

“Why?” Alexa asked. From most people this question would have come off as rude but somehow from Alexa it seemed like a legitimate request for information.

 

“Umm...because the last time we spoke you fired me? Bayley suggested.

 

“I didn’t fire you Miss Martinez, I just informed you that your arrangement with Ms. Flair had ended.”

 

“That’s basically what I said,” Bayley pointed out. There was a pause where Bayley guessed that Alexa was trying to find a hole in this answer. Evidently, she didn’t.

 

“Perhaps we could get back to the matter at hand?” Alexa finally asked. Bayley almost chuckled at this minor display of pettiness.

 

“Alright alright, well...go on then coach. What do you have for me?” Bayley said, putting some humor into her voice.

 

“Are you able to take notes where you are?” Alexia asked. Bayley was taken aback by the question.

 

“Well, I just got to my apartment so I need to get inside first but then-”

 

“Very good, please do so and inform me when you’re ready again,” Alexa said briskly, as though the matter was entirely closed. Bayley thought about resenting the way Alexa was barking orders but again bit her tongue. And that was how she found herself sitting at her table not long afterward with her laptop open and her phone, on speaker, beside her.

 

“What is your planned strategy for the upcoming interview Ms. Martinez?” Alexa asked.

 

“Uh…” Bayley said, truthfully she never really worked on a ‘strategy’ for these things. She knew what points she wanted to make and researched what was necessary to make them. But it wasn't part of some plan. “I guess I just want to go on and make sure I tell the truth and keep my content factual.” There was a very long pause a this, long enough that Bayley felt compelled to ask: “Umm Alexa?”

 

“I was simply waiting to hear the rest of your strategy.”

 

“That was it.”

 

“Ah... I see…”

 

“Is...that OK?” Bayley asked, oddly nervous about the answer.

 

“It is not,” Alexa said brusquely.

 

Bayley frowned as she asked: “What's wrong with me going out and telling the truth? That content alone should be enough to put any of this ridiculous speculation to bed!”

 

“Content...does not concern me,”

 

Bayley blinked at this. Eventually, she found her voice and said: “So….I think you’re smart enough to realize why that attitude might seem surprising to me.”

 

There was a tiny sigh on the other end of the line before Alexa said: “What counts in any kind of public speaking Ms. Martinez? Delivery, delivery, delivery! WHAT you have to say is much less relevant than how you go about saying it. THAT is what I am most concerned with,” Alexa explained.

 

And so she did in great, and sometimes excruciating detail. Bayley had thought Alexa might have been exaggerating about the need to take notes, she hadn’t been. By the time they were winding down, forty minutes later, Bayley’s brain hurt.

 

“I’m afraid that’s all I have the time for today Ms. Martinez, but before I go I wonder if I might make a request of you?” Alexa said.

 

“Uh-huh,” Bayley murmured as she massaged her temples. She was so distracted by her incipient headache that she almost missed Alexa’s request.

 

“I will be in California soon on an errand for Ms. Flair and I was hoping to get on your calendar for a brief meeting.”

 

“What?” Bayley asked, wrong footed by the request.

 

“I said-”

 

“No I heard you-” Bayley started to say.

 

“Then why did you ask?” Alexa cut in pedantically.

 

“It was more of a ‘why’ than a ‘what’ question,” Bayley said, still surprised by the request. Not only had she and Alexa not parted on the smoothest terms the last time they’d been in proximity, but Alexa had never struck Bayley as someone who did much socializing.

 

“I would...prefer to discuss that in person,” Alexa said. For the first time ever, as far as Bayley knew, the other woman sounded cagey.

 

“Ummm, sure...I guess. Would you like to maybe get lunch or something?” Bayley finally asked. Even as she did she wasn’t quite sure SHE wanted to have lunch with Alexa Bliss.

 

“That would be acceptable, I will email you with some possible times,” Alexa answered, once again back in her usual crisp tones.

 

“OK, well I’ll-” Bayley said just as her phone buzzed. Looking down she saw she had an email from Alexa Bliss. “Oh wow, umm I’ll look these over and get back to you,” she said.

 

“Very well, and one last thing Ms. Martinez,” Alexa said.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Please try to minimize your use of such words as ‘umm’ and ‘uh’ on TV. You’ve used both quite often during this conversation,” and with the that the line went dead.

 

Bayley was once again left to blink in befuddlement for several moments. Looking down at the phone she finally said: “ _Un placer hablar contigo.”_

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

The walk down to the parking garage felt shorter than she remembered. Although, that may just be the fact that Charlotte was so lost in thought that her feet worked autonomously to bring her there.

 

Ric’s last words still fresh in her mind.

 

Charlotte entered the safety of her car and sat. Not bothering to turn on the engine and simply sitting there for almost ten minutes while she contemplated what the hell she was going to do.

 

Pulling out her phone she glanced down quickly brought up the now familiar number.

 

Charlotte knew she had an ingrained habit of reacting poorly when stressed and made an effort to plan ahead for it. Sorting her thoughts and reminding herself that -especially now- she needed to stay in control and be an adult.

 

With that in mind she hit the call button and put the phone on speaker. Waiting through each ring until finally the other side was picked up.

 

“Hey Bayley… How’ve you been?” The question seemed generic but Charlotte wasn’t sure how best to ask your friend if they are still feeling horrible about rejecting your… whatever the hell Becky was to her.

 

Bayley was trying to negotiate the external steps that led up to her apartment. It was a standing conviction for her that it would be better to lose fingers than to ever make two trips bringing groceries in from her car. Of course, this could lead to awkward situations like when you’d somehow managed to drape seven or eight bags off your body and then your phone rang. Dipping her chin in an effort to trigger her headset she heard Charlotte’s voice.

 

“Hey Char...hang on I…” Bayley started to say before she heard the small tearing sound that could only signal impending disaster. “No, no, no, no, no…” she muttered as she did her best to hurry up the stairs.

 

Charlotte listened as what sounded like a serious situation was occuring on Bayley’s end. A bit of concern overriding her own emotions. “Is everything all right over there? I can call back.”

 

“No it’s…” then came the tearing sound. Bayley lunged for the top of the stairs and got several of her bags safely onto the landing...but not all. Of course, one of the bags that broke was the one with the eggs. There followed a long, creative, and perfectly fluent string of cursing in two languages.

 

“Ok… I only understood about half of that but I think I can guess the rest.” Charlotte’s eyebrows currently resided in her hairline after hearing Bayley’s profane tirade. “What could possibly get YOU to swear like that?”

 

Bayley sat heavily on the top step and stared sadly down at the mess on the lower landing. Despite her intense annoyance she actually cracked a smile as she said: “Would you believe it was LITERALLY spilled milk?”

 

Charlotte appreciated being able to laugh like this. “Wait. Wait. You can’t be serious. Dropping some food is what gets you to that level?”

 

“It was a full gallon...and some nice brown eggs…” Bayley said, a little defensively but more sheepish than anything.

 

“Alright. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you actually know such bad words. That would go against your image.” She teased in a hopefully casual voice. Happy to avoid the reason behind her call for the time being.

 

“ _Lo aprecio…”_ Bayley said wryly before she sighed and “...But I assume you didn’t call me to discuss my grocery problems.”

 

Back to the real world it seemed. “Fascinating as your problems seem, I didn’t. Even from beyond the grave my Dad can still throw some surprises at me.” Charlotte tried to joke lamely. Not quite feeling up to it even though she wanted to feel something other than the melancholy that followed her since entering the law office.

 

Bayley’s own mood sombered quickly at this. She didn’t KNOW that something bad had happened but whenever Charlotte spoke about her dad it usually wasn’t great for Bayley’s friend. “Well...if you get on a plane now....we could be having beers in five hours?” Bayley said, trying to convey both her willingness to listen and some cheer.

 

“As good as that sounds I’ve got a bit too much on my plate right now. My Dad gave me control of his stakes in the gym and I’ve already got Orton calling me. Not to mention trying to keep together everything while the circus came to town.” Charlotte let herself vent a bit of her present frustrations and found that it helped a little bit. “I swear this fight is going to be the death of me.”

 

Bayley did some quick calculations in her head and asked: “So….between your share and your father’s that would leave you with...very nearly a controlling stake right? And if your father’s partners and their heirs fall in line you actually do have one?”

 

The accuracy of the statement blindsided Charlotte. “Uhh… Yeah. That’s actually a pretty damn good summation of things.” She ran over the other conversations she had with the reporter. “I don’t ever remember discussing those numbers in detail with you.”

 

“You never discussed them with me at all,” Bayley said significantly, waiting for Charlotte to fill in the phrase that she felt like she’d used a dozen times with the blonde.

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the blase response. “Don’t say it. I know. I know. You’re a reporter and you don’t suck at your job. Keep forgetting that.”

 

“ _Toda la razón,”_ Bayley said. She was quiet for awhile before she asked: “But that seems like GOOD news, and it doesn’t sound like I’m talking to happy go lucky Charlotte. Everything alright?”

 

“I don’t really know. If I’m honest, I’m mostly confused. Apparently my Dad and Sasha have been… sort of working together.” Charlotte admitted. “I’m not really sure what to think about it. He made it seem like she was a good person just trying to help. But then I think about her acting like a bitch and I can’t help wanting to smack her around a bit… And I’m still convinced she only went after Kairi because I wanted to bring her in.”

 

The phone remained silent after Charlotte’s speech. The blonde squirming just a bit in her car seat while she waited on her friend to give her some type of response.

 

Eventually the waiting got to be too much and Charlotte couldn’t help wondering what had stolen the words from the mouth of a journalist. “You still there?”

 

The situation was an incredibly uncomfortable one for Bayley. Could Charlotte really JUST be learning these things?

 

“Umm...can I ask how you learned about these facts?” Bayley asked delicately.

 

The question was a little odd but Charlotte answered it honestly. “Ric’s will. He had a lot to say.” Charlotte wished he had as much to say years earlier but recognized that path led to nowhere.

 

“Oh...well this is kind of awkward huh?” Bayley asked, honestly wishing she go back to focusing solely on spilled groceries.

 

“Why? I feel like I’m missing something here.” Genuine confusion maring the blonde’s voice.

 

“I just...I’m surprised that your dad didn’t tell you before this…” Bayley said, hoping Charlotte wouldn’t make her say explicitly, the thing that was twisting a blade of guilt in her gut.

 

Charlotte was beginning to feel like everyone but her was in on the joke. “Wait. Are you saying you knew?”

 

Bayley was twisting the hem of her shirt now as she spoke in a voice as guilty a child who’d just been caught in mischief. “Well...yeah, your dad told me. He thought it might help my story...so I just assumed you knew?” Bayley said.

 

“He told you… Huh. That’s interesting.” Charlotte stated like it was a random moderately amusing fact you’d find beneath a Snapple cap.

 

Bayley could feel the volcano that Charlotte was trying very hard to put a lid on. Tentatively she asked: “Are you mad at me?”

 

“At you? No.” She answered quickly. Trying not be cynical but it felt impossible. Evidently Ric felt comfortable sharing that information with a reporter over his own daughter. Mind that; a daughter that had to work closely with his pity project.

 

“Are you mad at him?” Bayley asked quietly.

 

“Feels a little pointless,” Charlotte said. “Not really sure how I’m supposed to feel at this point.”

 

“Your dad always seemed...complicated to me,” Bayley said, the word felt inadequate to describing Ric Flair but it did seem to be the best fit she could find. Recalling some of their few conversations, Bayley had always felt charmed but had also sensed that there were unplumbed depths beneath the glittering surface.

 

“That’s one way of saying it. I just wish he didn’t seem so complicated to me.” Charlotte confessed. “No offense, but I’m his daughter. Shouldn’t I have known? Shouldn’t I have been a priority?” She had to stop herself before falling down this line of thought. Having been down it before Charlotte knew it only led to bitterness and regret.

 

“Yes…” Bayley said simply. “Look, Charlotte, I can’t tell you why your dad did things the way he did. But I will say that every time he spoke to me he made sure to tell me how much he loved you and how proud he was,” she added.

 

Charlotte tried not to be bitter but she knew it came through. “I’m glad he told **you** those things. I guess I was just always busy when he felt like saying it.”

 

“You going to be OK? I’ve got time to chat if you want a distraction,” Bayley offered.

 

“I will be. How about a rain check on those beers. I probably should drive back to the gym and see how she’s doing.” Charlotte offered without thinking. Already planning the rest of her day in her own mind. “Hopefully Liv remembered to pick her up after.”

 

Knowing that ‘she’ could only mean one person, Bayley asked: “How is she?”

 

Charlotte wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wanted to give both women the respect they deserved but considered how much to share. “As well as you could expect.” Charlotte paused for a moment. “Still blaming herself but at least she’s been going along with everything so far.”

 

Bayley sighed, her instinct was to call Becky and smother her with love but she knew that, right now, what the Irish woman needed was time. Realizing she’d been quiet for too long she told Charlotte: “Thanks for taking care of her Charlotte.”

 

“Sorta my job.” Downplaying her role and trying not to think about it. If she was being honest there was no need for her to be so directly involved with Becky. She easily could send Liv, Ruby, or one of Alexa’s girls but kept finding time to deal with the redhead herself. “She’s not the easiest to take care of. Even when she is ‘letting’ me.”

 

“I can imagine…” Bayley said, still feeling terribly guilty. More to change the subject than any real interest she forced some cheer into her voice and asked: “Do you mind talking to reporter Bayley?”

 

“That would actually be a welcome distraction.” Charlotte honestly declared. Feeling just a bit of the tension evaporate with the change.

 

Bayley pulled up her recording app on her phone and started it before saying: “We’re recording now FYI. Can you give me official in camp confirmation on the rumors about Banks-Lynch part II?”

 

Facts were easy to deal with. “We’ve been given a contract for the fight. It has yet to be signed on both sides but that’s just ironing out the details. We’re moving forward under the assumption that those small details will be dealt with. Both women want the fight. They won’t let a piece of paper stop them.”

 

“Any indications on venue? Purse? Or any other details?” Bayley asked.

 

“Most of it’s still up in the air, but I can tell you that I don’t recall seeing so many zeroes on an offer for an MMA fight. Another small matter is that the company wants a multi city nationwide press tour months before the fight. So, even if this is signed the actual fight won’t be for a while.” Charlotte informed. Not giving her personal opinion on why this fight was taking place so far down the road. It was a fairly obvious workaround Sasha’s suspension but she knew the reporter in Bayley would easily put two and two together.

 

“So here’s your big chance for some owner speak Char: What’s the Flair camp message on how Becky is looking, feeling, etc,” Bayley asked, feeling slightly guilty because she knew full well that Becky wouldn’t be ‘feeling’ well at all.

 

Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat but kept her voice strong and confident. “The last fight with Nikki was tough, but Becky is ready for a fight. Be that a week from now or in a few months. She knew that Sasha was the end of this road when we started this journey. It might have came a bit earlier than we anticipated but you don’t get to pick the best time for an opportunity like this to fall into your lap. You either step up to the test or…” Charlotte trailed off for a moment. “You fall down and have to get back up.”

 

Bayley smiled to herself as she hit the stop button on her recorder. “That was some quality coach speak Char,” she said. “You think the press tour will bring you out west?” she asked.

 

“New York and Los Angeles are the two places that consistently have came up in talks. I’d be surprised if we didn’t come out your way at least once. Shane seems pretty dead set on hyping this fight up for the PPV buys.”

 

“Well, hopefully I’ll get credentialed and will see you there,” Bayley said, not mentioning that she was in danger of getting let go at ESPN, something that would make it hard for her to get credentialed for such a big fight.

 

Charlotte smiled at the prospect of actually getting together with her friend under better circumstances than last time. “Hey, even if you somehow don’t, I’m pretty damn sure I could get you in. We’ve got quite a bit of leverage once that contract is official.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bayley said with a smile, though she made sure not to commit. She was very uncomfortable with nepotism.

 

Charlotte took the hint. “I’m sure we… I’ll see you. I really do need to get going though. I’m pretty sure this parking garage starts charging way more after the first hour.”

 

“OK, call me soon Char OK?” Bayley said earnestly.

 

“Of course. I’m thinking facetime and drinks later this week, but I will call you when I know for sure. _Adios!”_ Charlotte called back before ending the call. Starting up the car and moving away from the law office. Feeling better the further she got.

 

“ _Adios mi amiga,”_ Bayley said as she hung up. She stared down at her phone for a long time, considering Charlotte’s problem. Then something occurred to her. Flipping through her phone Bayley found what she was looking for. When she had she composed a short message to Charlotte.

 

“ _When you get the chance you should listen to this audio, I think you’ll find it interesting.”_

 

Hitting send, she sighed and went to clean up her mess.

 

**Charlotte**

 

The grass was a little damp but Charlotte didn’t mind. Kneeling down and taking a seat.

 

One of her hands reached out to trace the engraved letters with reverence.

 

“Hey Reid. I know it’s been a while but I’ve been a bit busy.”

 

Charlotte looked around the cemetery. The only other living people here were an elderly couple, who, even if their hearing was perfect were far enough away that them being able to hear her would be impossible.

 

“I uhh… I thought you might want to hear this too.”

 

She pulled out her phone and queued up the audio Bayley had sent her.

 

“I know you’re probably sick of hearing it, but Bayley is too awesome for this world.” Sniffling just a bit as she dabbed at the corner of her eye. “You would have gotten along with her… I mean everyone does.”

 

Charlotte pressed the play button and Bayley’s digital voice came out of the speaker.

 

_“What would you say was the greatest achievement during your life?”_

 

_“The fact that despite everything I did my daughter grew into such a strong, intelligent person.”_

 

Ric’s voice came out and just like the first time she listened to it Charlotte couldn’t help but get emotional.

 

_“She’s dealt with so much, and LORD knows I wasn’t there for her. Reid was though… He was right by her side through most of it. When he... passed, I-I didn’t even know what to do. I wasn’t really living. But then I saw Charlotte. I saw her still standing when she had every opportunity to crumble. Who could blame her if she did? I can’t say enough how proud of her I am. People can remember me however they want once I’m gone. But I can say with full confidence that Lottie is far stronger than I ever was.”_

 

The audio file ended and Charlotte placed her phone back in her pocket. Wiping at the fresh tears that had snuck out with the back of her hand. “Is it bad if I still feel angry with him for not being around? I feel like I’m just wasting my energy over something he couldn’t change, but I’ve held onto it for so long I don’t know how to brush it away.”

 

Charlotte stared at the gravestone and was met with a comforting silence. A light wind catching her hair and gently blowing a few strands back over her shoulders with ease.

 

She sat for a minute simply appreciating the calming silence. A tiny smile breaking through her mask. “I’ll try though… It’s been a while since I was last here.” Charlotte stated her smile fading. “I’m scared. Becky relapsed and I… I’m just scared. It’s why I didn’t want to give her a chance in the first place. I know that’s mean but I panicked… I didn’t want to get close to her because I knew it would hurt to watch her struggle. Lot of good that did for me though. I’ve been an asshole and I still feel like shit when I see her so down.”

 

Charlotte took a few deep breaths. Trying to dampen the anxiety she felt creeping back up.

 

“I can’t lose someone else. I thought it would be easier if I didn’t care, but she has a way of getting under your skin whether you like it or not.”

 

It was another fifteen minutes before Charlotte stood up, preparing to leave.

 

“Good talk. I’ll be back.” Letting her hand linger on the sun warmed stone for a few extra seconds.

 

**Becky/Bayley**

 

Never before had a tiny piece of metal and plastic scared Becky.

 

She got into a cage dressed in little more than a bathing suit and fought another human being regularly. This shouldn’t even make her break a sweat.

 

Yet, here she was. Alone in her apartment and sitting in silence while her phone innocently sat on a tiny folding table. Terrified of picking up the device and following through.

 

It had already been sitting there for over twenty minutes while Becky found any excuse to procrastinate just a bit longer. She had wanted to make the call yesterday but had ultimately failed. And with another counseling session coming up in just a couple days the redhead was running out of time to make an attempt.

 

To help, Becky had found an old squishy stress ball but so far it hadn’t aided her nerves all that much. The muscles of her arm pulsing in a rhythmic fashion as she squeezed and released.

 

Becky hated the feeling of being intimidated by the prospect of calling someone who she truly cared for. It reminded her of Finn in a lot of ways and she didn’t know if she could deal with another person wanting nothing to do with her. If she never called she would never have to confirm that fear. Of course, she would also never get the chance to see if that fear was valid in the first place.

 

She finally reached out and picked up the phone. Staring down at Bayley’s number and hovering over the call button.

 

A thousand questions running through her head. Each one making it all the more tempting to just put the device back down and not take the risk.

 

Her finger pressed down and she raised the phone to her ear. Eyes closed and head already bowing down into her free hand. Caught between relief and blind terror when it started ringing.

 

There wasn’t any turning back now. Even if she did end the call Bayley would still know she called and would undoubtedly return it even if things weren’t alright between them.

 

Bayley was sitting in front of a large makeup mirror with a eyeliner brush poised by her face. She’d mostly forgotten about it by now as she struggled with a decision. Should she? Shouldn’t she? She’d been trying to force herself to commit one way or another for several minutes now and just couldn’t.

 

Sighing heavily she set the brush down and turned away from the mirror. Now was not the time to be grappling with this.

 

One or two successful wingtips in her mirror at home did not mean it was a good idea for her to try applying one before going on TV.

 

She was about to stand when her phone began to buzz with an incoming call. Bayley was tempted to just turn it off but then she looked up at a clock and saw that she had a few minutes before she was due to go on set. Retrieving the phone from her bag she took a seat in the green room chair and looked at the screen.

 

She froze as she saw the name on the screen.

 

‘Becky Lynch’

 

Bayley hadn’t spoken to Becky since she’d left Boston. She’d hadn’t even received a response to her text messages, which was why she’d backed off on them. A small part of her was simply resigned to the fact that she might never speak to Becky again. But now…

 

The debate within Bayley was brutal but short. She answered the phone.

 

“Hello?”

 

It was one thing to say you were ready to confront something like this but Becky was finding it another thing entirely now that her words had became action. “Uhh hey… Not gonna lie, a part a me was hoping you weren’t going ta pick up.” Already up and pacing, unable to stay still any longer. “Not a part I’m proud of.”

 

“If we’re being honest, part of me wasn’t going to,” Bayley admitted with the ghost of a laugh at the end. It was an odd feeling, being stuck between two levels of intimacy. On one hand, she’d seen Becky at her worst and loved the other woman like a sister. But on the other it almost felt like they were first meeting. Bayley wanted to reach out but simultaneously felt as though she couldn’t.

 

“I wouldn’t blame ya.” Becky began to pick at the new jeans she wore with her free hand. “T’ings are a lil’ weird right now.” Mentally berating herself already for not saying what she actually had planned and want wanted.

 

“Yeah...just a bit…” Bayley admitted, hating every second of how uncomfortable this felt. Also suddenly very aware of the sobriety chip nestled against her breastbone. “So...how are you? How have you been?” Bayley asked, floundering.

 

“Good… I’m good.” She didn’t want to talk about herself but knew Bayley would be worried. “I’m thinkin’ again… So that’s good.” Becky closed her eyes tightly and bumped her head lightly against the wall. “Are umm… Do-” Two more thumps and two more tiny dents in her drywall. “Fuck. I’m not good at this shit.”

 

“I’m not doing much better…” Bayley had to admit this. Sighing audibly she said: “ I don’t suppose you want to ever hear me say how sorry I am about that night again right?”

 

Becky shook her head even though Bayley couldn’t see. Still leaning her weight against the wall before resuming her pacing. “You see! You ARE good at this shit. You’re fucking Bayley for fuck’s sake. This shouldn’t be so hard. But I had to screw up a good thing. I’m the one who called to say sorry and you STILL beat me to the punch.” Becky wasn’t sure if she was crying or laughing at this point. “Seriously… You’re an asshole.”

 

Bayley couldn’t help it, try as she might. The giggle slipped out of her lips. “Becky, you have no idea how much that means to me, and how much I’ve missed you.”

 

The small semblance of normalcy was nice but still felt a little off. Becky was a little hesitant about responding in kind. She didn’t want Bayley to think she was only hanging around and calling waiting for a chance. “I… I’ve got a lot I need to say.”

 

“I-” Bayley started to say but then the door to the green room opened and a producer appeared. “Damn it!” she said, frustrated beyond belief that this was happening now.

 

Becky was going over everything she wanted to say. She couldn’t handle not having the brunette in her life and was willing to accept if it was just friendship. She had already ran off enough friends.

 

She had to take a few deep breaths to steady herself and was a bit taken aback by Bayley’s exclamation. “Bay?”

 

“I am SO sorry Becks, I’m about to go on Porter’s show, can we PLEASE continue this later? Maybe tonight?” Bayley asked, feeling dejected.

 

‘Oh…” Becky felt deflated after building herself up. “I’m gonna be busy tonight. McMahon wants me in New York for the card tomorrow night and radio row in the morning. After all that?”

 

“Sure, yeah that’s perfect,” Bayley said as she let out a huge internal sigh of relief. Everything would be fine after tomorrow. “Wish me luck OK? I’m going on to try and put this Carmella crap to bed,” she said as she stood and smoothed her clothes.

 

“That’d be nice. You’ve no idea the amount of assholes online who ate up every word and now think I’m some creepy perv.” Becky passed it off as a joke even though it was actually true. Yet another reason to avoid social media.

 

“You’re a charming perv…” Bayley assured her before saying “...I gotta go Becks, talk to you real soon.”

 

“Good luck.” Becky threw out. Feeling a little bit better since Bayley had loosened up. “Bye for now.”

 

“Thanks Becky,” Bayley said before tossing her phone down next to her purse and hurrying out of the green room.

 

**Becky**

 

The entire time she had been in New York so far had been a test of Becky’s rapidly thinning patience. That wasn’t even mentioning the fact that all she had to look forward to after finishing her obligations was an early morning flight to London for the first of many press conferences.

 

In the two plus hours of continuous press questions on radio row this morning Becky had quickly lost count of how many times she was asked about Bayley’s response to Mandy and Carmella’s interview. She didn’t know how many times she had to explain that she hadn’t seen it yet before they would stop asking.

 

Even so, the questions continued to roll in with each new person that rotated through and her answer didn’t change. Beyond getting increasingly more curt and dismissive with each interview.

 

“I swear Alexa if one more person asks me a dumb question I will rip out their tongue.”

 

The tiny blonde didn’t even look up from her phone. Her short legs somehow keeping up with Becky’s angry longer stride. “Have fun with that.”

 

Becky looked over and raised an eyebrow. “You’re cool with that?”

 

“If you hadn’t threatened bodily harm on more than twenty people so far I might take the most recent one more seriously.”

 

A pout spread onto the Irish fighter’s face as she miraculously found herself fighting to hold back a tiny smile. “Spoilsport. It’s not as much fun when you don’t give me a reaction.”

 

Alexa finished whatever she was doing on her phone and finally looked over at the woman she’d been conversing with. “That’s the point.”

 

Becky was going to respond when she caught a familiar sight in the corner of her eye. “Alright Lex Luthor. I’m going to have to cut this wonderful conversation short.”

 

“Oh no. What will I do?” Alexa sarcastically deadpanned.

 

“Got someone I need to talk to.”

 

“Remember, you have to be in hair and makeup in fifteen. Then after that you-”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’ll be there.” Becky dismissively waved her hand at the blond and started walking down the hallway she had noticed an old familiar face walking down.

 

The redhead wandered off down the halls of the famous Madison Square Garden Arena. It felt odd being here and not having a fight. It had always been a dream to have a match in such a famous arena but the stars had never aligned for her. Tonight she was just a spectator. There to make an appearance on the broadcast and do a bit of promotion for the next bit of promotion.

 

It was a bit like a never ending circle really. She was going to go talk about the press conference and then that press conference would lead into the next. Which would promote the next press conference and cycle on for weeks. Weeks that Becky knew would be mentally and physically taxing. And then they had to actually go back to their camps to train for the biggest fight of both women’s respective careers.

 

After a minute or so Becky finally caught up. “Finlay!”

 

The older Irish man stopped in his tracks and turned around at the familiar voice. Doing his best to try and keep his normally stoic face from showing anything.

 

Becky crossed the distance between them but stopped just outside of arms reach. Feeling a bit like a child going to the principal’s office. Oddly out of her depth with a man she used to be close enough to call family.

 

“Hey.”

 

Her former trainer just stared at Becky for a while before responding. His face not giving away a hint of what he was feeling. “Rebecca…”

  
Becky shoved her hands deep in her pockets. “Umm how are things going?”

 

Dave’s face twitched. “Is that really how we’re starting this?”

 

The redhead stayed silent for a few moments. Mulling over her response. “What do you want me to say?”

 

“I don’t know. You’re the one that came to me.”

 

Becky frowned and started to feel her nerves fray ever so slightly. “I just thought-”

 

“What? That we’d beg you to comeback just because you won a couple fights? Talent was never your problem. I could see from day one that you had the potential to be one of the greatest.”

 

The word potential had always irked Becky. When she started fighting the word had always been used to describe her. By itself the word is neutral, but to Becky it had both driven and haunted her.

 

“If we just wanted the best ‘fighter’ we’d never have let you go. Lord knows I tried to get you to realize where you were heading. I hoped it was just a phase. After you’re fight with Banks I wanted you to recover as much as anyone. Finn did too. I thought we could motivate you to actually put your all into rehabbing that knee but you didn’t want to hear it. To wrapped up in that Carmella girl… So I tried something else.”

 

Becky had never heard Finlay talk so much about something that wasn’t fighting, but his last words puzzled her. “What’re you saying?”

 

“She didn’t tell you?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Martinez. I wanted to help drag you out of that depression. So, I leaked the information about how serious your knee injury was. Thought it would light a fire under you.”

 

“You…” Becky didn’t know which way was up right now. “You were the leak?” The foundation she hadn’t ever had to question suddenly falling apart. “I trusted you… I trusted her.”

 

“I though-”

 

“YOU THOUGHT WRONG! What gave you the right? Huh? You thought selling me out would help?” Becky shook her head violently as her entire body vibrated with barely contained rage. “You know what. I don’t want to hear anymore. To think I was going to apologize to you. Fuck you! You should be apologizing to me.”

 

“Beck-”

 

“NO! I’m done listening to you. Who needs enemies with friends like you two.” Becky spat out and turned on her heel to walk away as quickly as she could. She couldn’t afford to let herself fall apart in front of him.

 

When she finally stopped Becky wasn’t even sure exactly where she was. The redhead hadn’t been paying any attention as she moved away from her former trainer.

 

She leaned against the cold wall and felt the chill in her heart slowly spread. No matter what she tried to do Becky couldn’t fight the wave of emotions hitting her.

 

“It’s ok. You can get through this. It’s only temporary.” Becky told herself to no avail. The storm inside her only growing.

 

She didn’t have any time to process any of it. Looking down at her phone Becky saw that she had to start getting ready for the rest of her obligations today.

 

With a heavy heart she began to wander the halls until she figured out where she was and made her way to hair and makeup. Hand freezing on the doorknob as she tried to center herself and push the distress to the back of her mind.

 

Just when she was about to open the door Becky heard a roar of laughter from behind her as a group of unaware BFA employees walked past.

 

“Did you see the interview?”

 

“The Martinez one? That was so crazy. A whole interview just to say she wasn’t fucking Lynch.”

 

“I almost felt bad for that Irish bitch at one point. She was trying so hard to convince everyone that there was nothing between them.”

 

“Who can blame her? Would you want to have your name attached to that ticking time bomb?”

 

“I can think of something I’d like attached to her.” The sound of laughter making Becky’s blood boil. “But only for a night. That pussy can’t be worth the side of crazy it comes with. Bet she’s a freak in bed though. I’d fuck the gay right out of her. She could even bring that Bayley chick along for the ride. Maybe I could even get them to kiss and make up around my dick.”

 

“Glad that girl realized it wasn’t worth it before Lynch dragged her through the mud.”

 

“She already did.”

 

“Before she got dragged through the mud more then. She seems way to nice for an asshole like that.”

 

“Well she made it crystal clear Lynch wasn’t an option. Her even saying they were friends felt forced. I’m guessing they fucked and that reporter realized what a horrible mistake she made. Full spin mode.”  

 

Becky couldn’t listen anymore but luckily their voices faded as they walked away.

 

She had actually been looking forward to supporting Bayley and watching the interview but now she wasn’t sure.

 

It seemed like everyone believed Bayley was the victim in all this. Becky didn’t blame them at all. Between the fighter with a questionable past and the always upbeat reporter it seemed obvious who was the bad influence.

 

But to hear that Bayley had leaned into that and confirmed that she would never look at Becky in a romantic sense ripped at the wound which had barely begun to heal.

 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. She didn’t even remember going on television and plastering a fake smile on her face.

 

When her obligations were finally done and she could rip the mic off her shirt Becky walked away from ringside where she had been giving the interview and looked around the sold out arena. She hadn’t really paid attention to any of the fights and honestly couldn’t say who had even fought.

 

The one thing that caught her eye was one of the new ring card girls. A model thin blonde that was giving her a hesitantly shy smile and a tiny wave.

Becky thought she recalled her name being Kelly Kelly, but that couldn’t be right. Regardless though she looked like a potentially willing distraction. The other two scantily clad girls next to her weren’t too bad either. A brunette with an ass to die for and a darker skinned beauty with cascading curls that framed her face. Both whispering to the blonde and glancing at Becky. Obviously in the middle of a conversation when the redhead was the subject.

 

Becky tossed her hair over her shoulder and flashed a confident grin that had Kelly blushing right away.

 

Making up her mind, Becky walked around cageside towards the group.

 

Maybe she could salvage this shitty night after all.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley was sitting with her knees tucked up to her chest leaning back against the wall at the head of her bed. She was absolutely stunned, though this was quickly draining away. It was being slowly replaced with a dawning sense of absolute horror and desolation. This had to be what it felt like to be suddenly stabbed. It couldn’t be real, she must still be dreaming.

 

Reaching out toward her phone where it lay on the bed, Bayley pressed ‘play’ on the voicemail with a quivering finger.

 

“I should ‘ave known you were a fuckin’ liar. You almos’ had me fooled ta. Pretendin’ like ya give a shite ‘bout me when y’ur jus’ waitin’ ta stab me in the back. Jus’ like everyone else. And I actually fuckin’ thought you were special. I did everythin’ right and you didn’t even care. Were you ever gonna tell me about Dave or would you jus’ hide b’hind that reporter bullshit?…” Becky voice became much softer as she held the phone away from her mouth and spoke to whoever was in the room with her. “I didn’t tell you three to stop… Shut the fuck up and do what I tell you.” The phone moved back, and she started addressing Bayley again. “I did everyt’ing’ you wanted and it’s still not enough. NEVER fucking was apparently. You didn’t think it was important to tell me one of the only people I trusted was selling me out? Huh? FUCK YOU BAYLEY! You needed a whole damn interview to say I’m not worth it. Think yer above me? How fuckin’ cute. Hope ya enjoy all the extra attention for yer stupid lil’ articles. You’re welcome by the way. Fucking stupid bitch. You should have been GRATEFUL I even looked in your direction! No one gave a damn about you before me. You should have been getting down on your knees thankin’ me every damn day. I’m Becky FUCKING Lynch! I could have any bitch I wanted. Isn’t that right… Uhh... Who cares what your names are... Go choke on a dick you stupid feckin whore. I’d trust Carmella over you right now. At least when she fucks me, she’s upfront ‘bout it. AND I GOT to actually fuck that stupid slut! But you couldn’t even give me that and spread those legs. At least then I would have gotten something out of this ‘relationship’,” She spat out the word like it was acid. “I knew I never should ‘ave trusted a reporter… I’ll make sure to ‘think about it’ ‘fore getting’ involved with another cunt like you. _Buenos noches, pinche puta!”_

 

Hearing the voicemail for the second time was even worse than the first time. Like an embedded blade being violently twisted in her flesh. To hear those words in voice of a woman who had become one of her best friends…

 

Receiving Sasha’s ‘wedding invitation’ and when she’d first had to break Becky’s heart had been horrific experiences for Bayley. She’d thought, and maybe hoped, that they would be the worst of her adult life. If she had hoped that, it had been in vain. This was much worse. This was almost as bad as the darkest parts of her teenage years.

 

Bayley could feel tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes as she looked down at her phone. Part of her wanted to be angry. She’d seen both Becky and Sasha use this trait to effectively avoid feeling other emotions. And she really tired.

 

How dare Becky Lynch, no, Rebecca fucking Quinn, do this to her? Bayley had bent over backwards trying to help that hot mess, and had even endured body blow after body blow to her reputation. She’d done all of that willingling, happy to make those sacrifices for the woman she thought she knew. How dare Becky do this to her?

 

But righteous indignation wasn’t a natural part of Bayley’s character. Try though she might to conjure storm clouds of rage to hide her heart, they were quickly dissipated by her sadness. No, try though she might Bayley simply couldn’t fill this hole in her heart with anger. She wished she could.

 

Her phone buzzing almost made her jump out of her bed. Looking down at it as though it were an old friend who had suddenly betrayed her, she checked the screen. She had an incoming call from Charlotte Flair.

 

Bayley sniffed as she looked down at the device. Light was streaming in through her bedroom window as she thought. The right thing to do would be to answer and tell Charlotte, her friend, what had happened. She would undoubtedly sob like a child but then she could talk about it, maybe see if Charlotte could make sense of this sudden javelin to Bayley’s heart. Her friend was only a single button push away. She could do it.

 

She reached out with a steady hand.

 

She hit ‘ignore’.

 

Letting herself slump sideways onto her bed, she turned away from the window and pulled her comforter over her head as the sobbing began.

 

**Becky**

 

“Rise and shine!”

 

Becky groaned at the loud voice. Her head ringing like she was inside a bell tower. She was a little confused when she tried to move but found herself pinned down. One of her eyes creeping open only to shut it tightly from the bright sunshine that poured in through the window.

 

“Get the fuck up. All of you.” Alexa’s unmistakable and angry voice filling the room.

 

Slowly the women that had been pinning Becky to the mattress stirred.

 

“Get your clothes and get out.”

 

Becky continued to lie in bed as she the three women slowly dressed. Any complaints quickly cut off by the obviously irate diminutive blonde.

 

“Bye Becky.” Kelly and the other two called out in unison as they were literally being pushed out the door.

 

“Bye… Uhh… You three.”

 

Alexa slammed the door behind them and turned towards Becky with fury written across her face. “What the hell was that?”

 

The familiar feeling of a hangover made Becky want to hide in shame but she wouldn’t admit that. “I think it’s called sex. Is it classified as a foursome or an orgy at that point?”

 

“I don’t give a shit. Do you have any idea what I had to do to find your ass?”

 

“I-”

 

“NO! You don’t get to say shit. I’ve got Charlotte breathing down my neck because you decided to run off on your own last night and not answer your fucking phone.” Alexa took a moment to gather a few deep breaths. “I really want to say more but we need to get to the airport. Flight to London leaves in an hour. Get dressed.”

 

Becky heard the words but didn’t understand. “What?”

 

“Get moving already. We don’t have time to waste.”

 

“Umm… Alexa?”

 

“What?” Impatiently tapping her foot after throwing a discarded shirt at Becky’s head.

 

“What happened last night?” The Irish woman asked.

 

The confusion on her face must have melted just a bit of Alexa’s icy fury. “You fucked up. No time to wallow in self pity though. That plane won’t wait for us.”

 

Becky nodded and pulled herself out of the bed. Uncaring of her own nudity as she slowly pulled on the wrinkled clothes from last night that had been scattered across the room.

 

She was far too preoccupied with trying to remember what she had done last night. The last thing she remembered was Kelly and her friends (… Layla and… Brooke?) dragging her into a club. Everything after that was a blank.

 

Becky groaned when she remembered that she was supposed to call Bayley so they could continue their conversation.

 

As much as she wanted to repair that relationship she didn’t have the time right now. Hopefully the brunette would forgive her for having to reschedule.

 

She recalled Finlay’s words from yesterday and she felt an irrational wave of anger towards the reporter but shook it away.

 

It hurt that Bayley had held that information from her, but with a few seconds of rational thought Becky realized how useless her anger was.

 

Not only did Bayley need to keep her sources confidential for obvious reasons, but this happened well before they had gotten to know each other.

 

It still hurt, but in the light of day Becky knew Bayley didn’t deserve her ire.

 

She’d have to apologize for having the thoughts in the first place, but knew that Bayley would readily forgive her. A small smile jumping onto her face through the hangover at the thought.

 

Becky was devastated that she let herself have another relapse but knew she could get through it with the help around her.

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha was beyond tired as she lay on the bed in her hotel room.

 

In a different time she would have been laying on the bed in her hotel suite, but she’d elected against it this time. Sasha wasn’t sure she knew exactly what it would ultimately mean to ‘be better’ but she guessed that continuing to live her old lifestyle would make it difficult. So here she was.

 

One thing she did have going for her in her quest to change was that part of her old lifestyle was being denied to her. Previously, whenever she’d been in London, she’d spent all of her nights partying almost until sunrise the next day. This time around she was simply too tired.

 

Meng was relentless. Sasha would never describe Bobby Lashley as someone who went easy on his fighters, almost the exact opposite. But Meng took Bobby’s obsessive work ethic and seemingly doubled it. Bobby had always given Sasha a lighter workout if they’d gone overseas and landed early in the day. Meng had arranged for her to go almost directly from the airport to a private gym where she’d had a grueling sparring session with two of the best tireur in the world.

 

Simon Dean, he was not.

 

Sasha was in London to kick off the multi-week media tour that would culminate in her rematch with Becky Lynch. The fight itself was a long way off but Shane wanted this to be the biggest spectacle in the history of the sport. So there would be media stops in London, Boston, New York, Miami, Chicago, Houston, Vegas, and LA. And Teddy had mentioned that they were still talking about adding to the list.

 

For what felt like the first time since in years, Sasha was intimidated. She knew full well how little it would take for her to backslide into the Boss, she wouldn’t lie to herself on this. And also knew how much pressure and scrutiny she would be under in the coming months. She was intimidated because she wasn’t at all confident she’d be able to weather the storm.

 

Especially not alone.

 

Another thing she had to admit to herself, if to no one else, was that her quest for self improvement was at least a little fraudulent. She felt this way because she had the idea that a real effort to be better would be disinterested with no other goal. Sasha knew that on some level she was trying to ‘fix’ herself for someone else.

 

For her.

 

But she also knew how unlikely it was that this dream would ever be realized. She just hoped she could repair some of the damage she’d done to herself and others along the way. Or that’s what she told herself. Told herself in the moments when she wasn’t trying to delude herself with false hope.

 

Sasha’s preoccupation wasn’t helped by the fact that she had just watched a lengthy interview where Bayley was the subject. She’d mostly been watching the ESPN stream as a way to have noise on, but then she’d seen the note flash by on top of the screen: ‘On the MVP show: Bayley Martinez’.

 

Sasha had thought it must have been someone else with the same name, but she’d been unable to keep herself from clicking the link. Her stomach had then done a backflip as she’d seen Bayley’s face on the screen. A Bayley looking and dressed more somberly than Sasha remembered her, but Bayley nonetheless. Sasha’s heart had ached as she’d looked at those features, so familiar and yet somehow alien now.

 

She’d watched the entire interview, it wasn’t live obviously but she’d checked and it was only a day old. Sasha had more or less unplugged from the MMA news cycle recently but even so she’d been aware of what Mandy Rose and that bitch Carmella had done. And she’d taken great joy in telling Teddy that she wouldn’t allow any media access to Rose or anyone else from her show. But as she’d watched Bayley’s interview, she’d been reminded just how far removed from that extraordinary woman she was.

 

One exchange, in particular, had highlighted this for her. Porter had asked Bayley: “Given your side of the story you must be a little angry by what ended up happening with Carmella Dale’s appearance and subsequent comments right?”

 

“No, Montel, no. When I first heard, yes, I was annoyed. But now? No, absolutely not. There are a lot of reasons why I try not to drag grudges around with me. But the biggest one is simply that I won’t let others dictate to me how I will feel. I don’t know Ms. Dale or what her motivations were for saying what she did. But I won’t let her, or her words, change me.”

 

Sasha had sat back at this response. The answer, so characteristic of everything she’d loved and still loved about Bayley, felt like a rebuke to her. Especially in light of her immediate and extremely petty reaction to the same stimulus. She’d almost been on the point of calling Teddy then and there to end the media embargo, but then she’d caught Bayley’s closing words.

 

“I love this sport, I love the fighters, I love the fans, I love all of it. I started a website on nothing and powered with hard work for a very long time to get here. Becky Lynch is one of my best friends, and I do love her. Not in the way Ms. Dale tried to suggest, but I do. As I tried to show in my writing from Boston, I don’t think anyone or anything is completely irredeemable-”

 

Sasha didn’t catch the rest of her words. Her mind latched onto the last sentence. And all its possible implications. Swallowing a sudden lump in her throat, Sasha sat down at her computer and closed the video. She stared blankly at her screen, the cursor blinking in the email she’d just opened. Wondering why she suddenly felt a powerful sense of deja vu.

 

She stared.

 

Then, almost of their own volition, her fingers began to move. Slowly at first, but picking up speed and purpose as time went by. She ended up writing almost a full page before she deleted it all. It had been so...false. Like she was quoting from a movie or a book. She’d simply never been very good at expressing herself in writing. Sighing, she turned on her computer’s webcam and the moved to sit on the edge of her bed.

 

She rested her elbows on her knees for a long time as she looked down at the floor. A legion of thoughts and feelings at war inside her. Her heart was even beating faster now. It got to the point where she knew that if she didn’t look up soon, she never would.

 

“Hi, Bay…” she said as she looked into the camera.

 

**Sasha/Becky**

 

Even a day later Becky was still feeling the after effects of her night of debauchery. Her head still pounded but that may have more to do with having to fly to London with a massive hangover. The planes engines never giving her a moment to rest on the way over.

 

When her name was called to come on stage Becky grimaced and tried to plaster on a convincing smile. The bright lights shining down make her want to turn away before the whole thing started. She persisted through the discomfort and walked across the stage while waving to the generally Pro-Lynch crowd. It might not be Ireland but London was close enough.

 

After a quick handshake from Shane she sat down at her assigned side of the stage and set her phone and bottle of water down on the table that sat in front of her.

 

She took a few deep breaths once the attention began to fade off of her momentarily. The crowd already anticipating Sasha coming on stage as the McMahon went over her accolades. Stirring the people into a frenzy when he mentioned the last fight. Boos waiting to be unleashed on the champion when she showed herself.

 

Becky oddly enjoyed the moment. These media obligations always felt like she was some animal in a zoo that reporters came to gawk at. On display for criticism from people who would hate the same microscope if it turned on them.

 

Becky couldn’t help but think about Bayley. Her… friend hadn’t wanted any of the attention that came with celebrity but had always handled it far better than Becky. She didn’t go blowing up and shouting on national television every time some asshole went off on her.

 

Shane finally ended his long winded introduction and the spotlight was all on Sasha as she entered to the hostile crowd jeering her from the word go.

 

Sasha had been waiting as patiently as she could just off stage. She’d done this sort of thing enough times that it really shouldn’t have been causing her nerves, but it was. Maybe it was the fact that ‘she’ hadn’t done many at all, the Boss had always handled the media. And the media, in turn, had always eaten up her act. Now, Sasha about to try something new and that was always daunting on a public stage.

 

She listened to Shane firing up the crowd in advance of her appearance. While she wished he hadn’t, she also understood the motive. Shane was nothing if not predictable and he would sell his last family member if he thought it would boost his company and thus his net worth. And she had to admit that the very strong sentiment against her was not unearned. No doubt British MMA fans would not have forgotten her treatment of Paige.

 

“Here we go,” she said quietly to herself as she heard Shane building to his crescendo.

 

“...The Women’s Bantamweight Champion of the world, Sasha Banks,” Shane shouted, and the chorus of booing began. This wasn’t coming from the assembled media, or at least not to any great degree, but from the paying audience.

 

The Boss would have sashayed out onto the stage, flicked away her haters, and maybe hit her pose a few times. She would have been confident, in charge, and seemingly immune to the hostility of the room. Sasha wasn’t.

 

Instead she walked out onto the stage with what she hoped was a humble smile on her face. She walked over to Shane, who wasn’t quite concealing his surprise and disappointment at this tactic, and shook his hand. Then she steeled herself for the first potential disaster of the day. Squaring her shoulders, she walked over to the tables, past her assigned spot, and moved to stand next to Becky.

 

She saw the Irish fighter tense, no doubt wondering if Sasha would attack her. Instead, Sasha stopped when she reached Becky and slowly extended her hand.

 

Becky was more than a little surprised when Sasha offered her hand rather than a fist. Their last meeting hadn’t exactly improved the issue that would always be between them.

 

For just a second she thought about ignoring the offer outright. Maybe even play up to the crowd and flick Sasha off or give her the grade-school tactic ‘pretend to shake hand and run hand through hair’. Either choice would have been petty though and a voice in her head that sounded like a strange combination of Charlotte, Alexa and Bayley told her that would be unwise.

  
There was still a tiny part of her that was wary of this all being some convoluted prank on Sasha’s part but she already felt bad after Alexa got in trouble for losing her in New York. When you added that guilt on top of how ashamed she was over drinking to the point of blacking out Becky decided she would try to be humble and keep herself out of trouble.

 

She stood up out of her chair and turned to stare down Sasha for a couple seconds. Searching the other woman’s eyes for any deceit and finding none.

 

With only a bit of hesitation Becky reach out with her own hand and wrapped it around Sasha’s. Neither woman taking their eyes off the other while they remained in contact.

 

So many flashes went off at this moment that it almost felt like a physical wave of light hitting Sasha from the side. But she ignored it as she held Lynch’s hand, squeezing enough to be respectful but not to indicate she was trying to establish dominance. She held the contact for a few seconds before she released Lynch’s hand and made her way back to her spot. When she sat, she made sure to sit upright, not to slouch as she always had before.

 

“Well alright then! How about that from our fighters?” Shane called from where he was standing. He then took his own seat and said: “Ladies and Gentlemen, ask away!”

 

Dozens of voices all clambored at once. But Sasha, as champion, knew it was up to her to begin things. Searching the room she pointed at random to a woman sitting in the second row.

 

“You, please,” she asked, doing her best to smile.

 

“Sasha, the last time you were here in London you made quite the negative impression. Do you have anything to say about your fight with Paige?” Sasha took a deep breath before answering. This had been bound to come up and she’d worked on her answer.

 

“Last time I was here, I made a mistake. I was going through some...personal turmoil and I let that affect my work. So do I have something to say? I could come up with a lot of things to say but they won’t mean anything. So I’ll just tell you that I regret it, and that I wish Paige nothing but the best. I’d also be willing to extend an invite to her to come to California some time to train with Thuggin and Buggin,” Sasha said, trying hard to put some real contrition in her voice.

 

The room was buzzing at the already out of character displays they’d seen from both fighters.

 

The talk prior to this press tour was that this feud would get very personal. Both women were known loose cannons and hadn’t been shy about speaking their minds. No matter how mean their comments could be.

 

Even Becky was taken aback by the Sasha she’d seen so far. The Irish woman was so fascinated that she nearly missed the next question from the same reporter that came her way.

 

“This is for Becky. Obviously your first fight with Ms. Banks ended poorly for you. How is this one going to be different from the last?”

 

A rather large part of Becky wanted to berate the reporter for daring to ask that but she tried to dampen that urge. Opening up her water bottle to take a sip and using the time to calm down. “I guess you’ll have to tune in to find out.” She gave a cheeky wink to the audience but continued. “I think me and Sasha have both changed quite a bit since then. If we fought a hundred times I’m sure I’d win some and she’d win some. It’s just about who is better for that thirty minute stretch when we step in the cage. Nothing else matters in the end.”

 

All eyes naturally turned to Sasha when Becky finished speaking. Clearing her throat she said: “One night, one fight. We can try to predict and prognosticate as much as we all like. But like Becky said, it’s just that one time that will matter. I don’t think it would be right for me to try and guarantee you anything, not anymore. The only thing I KNOW is that Becky will go out there and give me hell, and I think she knows I’ll do the same.”

 

Becky just nodded and remained silent. Content to let the point sit. She really didn’t want to talk about the last fight, but knew it would come up at some point.

 

Another reporter spoke up over the rest. Standing up so he was easily visible. “You both have had notably turbulent lives away from the cage. Is there anything you’d like to say on that?” The question an obvious bait thrown at the two women for them to fight over.

 

The loud pop that came as Becky stretched her neck helped alleviate some of the stress she felt from the question. She leaned forward and spoke into her mic since Sasha hadn’t said anything yet either.

 

“I can’t speak for Sasha, sometimes life just kicks you for no reason, but sometimes we bring it on ourselves. I’m sure she knows the difference and I wish her nothing but the best. It’s easy to forget who you really are in this business. You get in your own head and it can become your own worst enemy. All I want is the best Sasha Banks possible when we fight.” Becky stated. Purposefully avoiding her own faults while she spoke.

 

Sasha took her time before answering this one. Looking down and making sure that her expression suited what she was about to say. “I understand why you asked that question. And I respect it, you have a job to do. But I’m sorry guys, if you’re here to see a blow up...I’m just going to come through for you. I am...trying to be better in my life, and that’s hard. But change has to start somewhere, and I know Becky will support me on that. She has her own struggles, and I wouldn’t want them, falling off the wagon has to be tough but...I agree with her. I want a happy Becky Lynch because she’s going to be my best opponent.”

 

Becky had been nodding along absentmindedly but froze at the last two sentences. She could feel the eyes of the crowd turn towards her and the redhead wished she could vanish off the face of the earth right then and there. She knew what inevitably would come next.

 

“Umm… Follow up… I just need some clarification Ms. Banks. Did you say that Ms. Lynch fell off the wagon?”

 

Part of Becky wanted to get up and strangle the purple out of Sasha’s hair but the cat was already out of the bag. She was just waiting for the next foot to drop.

 

Even as the question was being asked, Sasha knew she’d made a mistake. God damn it, why was it so hard to try and do the right thing? Kicking herself inwardly she said: “I don’t think I should comment any further on that because it’s Becky’s business. Next question please?”

 

Of course they wouldn’t let that go so easily. “Ms. Lynch do you have any comment?”

 

Becky bit her tongue. “No comment.” She succinctly stated. She didn’t want to lie but it wasn’t something she wanted to revisit in such a public forum.

 

Another reporter immediately stepped up. “In some of your recent interviews with Bayley Martinez you spoke about being sober and your substance abuse problems. What changed?”

 

Sasha had been stewing in impudent frustration with herself at her faux paux and now saw a chance to redeem herself. Leaning forward she said: “Look, I have to say that this seems really off topic. We’re here to discuss the fight, and I think that’s more than enough to talk about. Can please focus on that and not what happened in Boston?”

 

The unfortunate thing about MMA journalism was that there was no really hiding from it. Becky could see the wheels turning in the reporters heads and knew when they put two and two together.

 

The short man who finally garnered the courage to ask the question looked a little intimidated by the moment. Sweat visible on his brow. “No offense Ms. Banks but why do you know this? Also the last time you were in Boston was for Ric Flair’s funeral. Did these events coincide with one another?”

 

Becky dropped her head into her hand. This was not how she wanted this to go. She hadn’t actively been trying to keep her relapse away from the media but it being brought up like this was more than a little humiliating.

 

Unbidden, the boss whispered in Sasha’s ear. She could just storm out of the press conference, or just attack the reporter verbally. She’d done both before when she’d been verbally pioned in the past. For a moment, she was tempted to do it again. But then she remembered that she was the cause of this problem, and she thought about how Bayley would handle it. Sasha probably do what her former friend would have done, but she didn’t have to act childish either.

 

Sagging in her seat she looked over at Becky, caught the other woman’s eye and mouthed: “I’m sorry.”

 

Becky wanted to be mad. She wanted to somehow go back in time but she knew there was no hiding from this now. She let out the breath she had been holding and solemnly nodded at Sasha. Trying to convey it was alright even though a voice was telling her to never let this go.

 

She pushed herself up straight and tried to hold her head high. The apple of her throat wavering as she summoned up the strength to just start speaking. “Yes… I had a relapse… I-I had a bad night. I’m not proud of it. But it happened. Now if we could please have some actual questions about the fight I’d love to hear ‘em. If you want to invade my privacy I’m sure you can just tune into ‘The Rose Report’ and Mandy will tell you all the juicy details. It’ll all be bullshit, but never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

 

There was a long, and uncomfortable pause before another reporter spoke up. After that the presser quickly became a fairly generic and shallow discussion of the fight to come. Neither Sasha nor Becky actually communicated much to assembled media, relying mostly on platitudes and truisms. And so it was with a palpable sense of anti-climax that the gathering eventually broke up.

 

Sasha knew that her initial foray into ‘being better’ had not gone particularly well. She could congratulate herself on keeping her temper, but not much more. Yet when she finally trudged backstage she was confronted by someone who wasn’t even prepared to allow her that small victory.

 

“Just what the fuck was that out there?” an angry voice demanded. Turning around, Sasha saw a red faced Shane McMahon storming toward her. She also realized that Becky had been right on her heels and was now standing immediately beside her.

 

Forcing down another reflexive flare of anger, Sasha asked: “What do you mean?”

 

“You know god damn well what I mean!” Shane ranged as he finally reached the two women. His fingers were hooked like talons and his eyes almost bulging from his skull. He almost looked like he would attack them, but Sasha knew he wouldn’t. The man was hothead, not a moron.

 

Having to force herself to look up asa she took a deep breath she said, patiently: “No...why don’t you tell me?” She then spared a half second to shoot a glance to her side to see that Becky was also staring directly at Shane, though she hadn’t spoken yet.

 

“That was so boring I nearly fell asleep! I brought you two idiots all the way to London so you could put on a show! A show that would drive interest in YOUR fight! After that we’ll be lucky if anyone gives a flying fuck that’s happening at all!”

 

Sasha’s temper was straining more and more against the chains she was using to contain it. She knew that if she stayed in Shane’s presence much longer she might lose the battle with it. So it was some real gratitude that she heard Becky speak up for the first time.

 

“Yer bein’ a lil’ dramatic there Shane. Taking lessons from your sister?”

 

Shane refocused on Becky and pointed a finger into her chest. “If I had known this was going to be the result I never would have brought you two out here. I thought you knew the game. I could care less if you wanna ‘be a better person’ or whatever.” Looking over towards Sasha with annoyance. “Do either of you know how much we have invested in this fight? How many people’s jobs rely on you selling this fight?”

 

Neither Becky or Sasha felt like dignifying this with a response although they both felt the weight of his words.

 

“The only thing we got out of this is that you-” he pointed at Sasha, “-are trying to not be such a bitch. And, you-” he pointed at Becky, “-are still a drunk. Notice that neither of those things make me want to pay to see you two fight.”

 

Becky gritted her teeth and tightly clenched her fists. Initially, she wasn’t going to just stand here and take this, but something held her back from snapping at her employer and physically assaulting him. “Noted.”

 

A lot of retorts suggested themselves to Sasha. The one on the tip of her tongue was a barb in which she reminded Shane that he didn’t give one single solitary fuck about the ‘people depending on them’. But she looked down, clenched her firsts, and took a steadying breath.

 

“So what do you want us to do Shane? Call each other names? Cat fight? Makeout?” she asked quietly, a tone that anyone who knew her knew meant danger was near.

 

“Any or all of that and more! I don’t need to explain this to you of all people Sasha, you’ve lived your whole time as champ as an attention whore!” Shane snapped. Apparently his anger then reached a point where he was beyond words for several seconds. When he finally did regain the power of speech all he said was: “No one gives a fuck about Sasha Banks or Rebecca Quinn, and they never have. People want to see the Boss vs the Man, and they damn sure better get it next time!”

 

The last strands of restraint were fraying inside Sasha when large shadows fell over her and Becky from behind. Before she could speak, a big hand fell on her shoulder and Meng’s voice said: “We’re going.” For half a moment, Sasha thought about resisting the pressure on her shoulder, god she wanted to punch McMahon’s fat face into oblivion.

 

Becky was a second away from not caring about the repercussions when she felt a large strong hand wrap around her elbow. “It’s time to go.” The redhead wanted to ignore Bobby’s words but looked to her side and saw that Sasha clearly was going through the same internal struggle. Punch Shane and potentially lose everything, or take the loss and not complicate things.

 

“Fine.” Becky spat out through clenched teeth. Allowing Lashley to begin steering her away from the scene.

 

“Nice seeing you again kid,” Sasha head Meng say, she assumed to Bobby, but she was too angry to look. Or even to feel awkward in the presence of her former trainer. Instead she shook her shoulder free from Meng, spun on her heel, and marched toward the exit. As she went she was forced to wonder how much longer she could actually continue trying to be better if this was the cost.

 

Becky eventually threw off the guiding hand on her elbow and stormed out of the arena to her waiting car. Hopping in the backseat and pressing herself back against the leather seat. Eyes tightly squeezed shut as she mumbled quietly to herself. “It’s ok. You can get through this. It’s only temporary. It’s ok. You can get through this. It’s only temporary. It’s ok. You can get through this. It’s only temporary.”

 

She continued to quietly repeat the words even when Bobby silently maneuvered his body inside the vehicle. Thankfully he didn’t make any mention of her actions. Quickly talking to the driver and informing him where to go.

 

As the vehicle lurched into motion Bobby let her have her moment of privacy. Only giving her a solid pat on the knee to let her know he was there if she needed anything.

 

Becky appreciated the silence. As much as she wanted to talk to someone she didn’t want to explain to Charlotte why she felt so bad right now.

 

That night out with Kelly and those two had certainly not helped her current mentality and she wasn't looking forward to seeing the blonde when she went back stateside.

 

Maybe Bayley would be better. The thought scared her a bit, but if Becky wanted the woman in her life as a friend she had to start opening up again.

 

She quickly called the other woman without even checking what the time difference would be. Bayley would probably have watched the press conference anyways so there was a good chance, no matter the time, she would be up.

 

The phone rang for a few seconds before she was sent to Bayley’s voicemail. Even just hearing the cheery voice give a pre-recorded message was enough to make Becky wish she hadn’t made such a big mistake.

 

She let it roll but ended the call before leaving a message. She’d just text Bayley to schedule something. They had already missed their planned call because of Becky running so late after her night in New York. Bayley had been nice enough to not even mention it or nag her about it.

 

Not having Bayley in her life had been a wakeup call and Becky was determined to not make a mistake like that again. She just wanted her friend back. Of all people, Becky never would have expected Alexa to help her see that.

 

_‘We should talk soon. I miss you.’_

 

Becky smiled at the words on her phone before adding a string of hugging smiley faces behind it and pressing send.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we did it. We managed to get another chapter out before WM. Hope you all enjoyed the evil we have unleashed. 
> 
> I felt horrible writing Becky's drunken rant towards the only person who's always been in her corner. Thankfully Charlotte is stepping up to the plate, but what will happen when she learns what Becky said? What will happen when Becky learns what she said to Bayley? Probably not going to be a pretty sight. 
> 
> Sasha is still on her road to being better but is that in jeopardy with all the extra stress heaped on her and Becky right now? Will she let Shane's indignation and need for The Boss make her throw away the progress she's made?
> 
> Poor Bayley. I don't know how much there is to say. It seemed Becky was reaching out to make peace and then she gets hit with that. 
> 
> Charlotte is going to need to step up next chapter, but she already has so much on her plate. I know this chapter was a little Charlotte light but next chapter will more than make up for it. 
> 
> Next chapter might take a bit longer than normal with both of us leaving for Mania in a couple days, but we will try out best to not keep you waiting too long.


	13. Chapter 13: The Price of Virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte: Balances growing her gym, keeping Becky on the straight and narrow, and saving an old friend.
> 
> Sasha: Continues to suffer for her vow to be better, will she be able to hold to it?
> 
> Becky: Forced to confront who she is (or might be) at her core, and recoiling from what she sees.
> 
> Bayley: Stuck in the depths of despair, will the same woman come out as the one that went in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for some really depressing thoughts and reference to self-harm.

**Charlotte**

 

“Perfect. I’ll be in LA on Monday and we can sit down to finalize this.” Charlotte voice filled with cheer and professionalism.

 

“Great! Looking forward to it. Becky was a huge reason for me getting into MMA so a chance to work on the same team as her, under the Flair name is a dream come true.” Toni Storm’s accent coming through even over the phone.

 

Charlotte looked down at her laptop and took notice of the time. “Well everyone here is excited to have you on board.” Biting her lip at the small lie. She hadn’t mentioned this to Becky yet but bringing another fighter to train with could only help her preparation for the Banks fight. Unless of course, Becky decided to make a fuss. “I’ve got to get running but I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement. Welcome to the team.”

 

A few minutes later and Charlotte was all ready to get moving. A light jacket thrown on to fight off the chill during the small walk to her car. Becky, Alexa and Bobby should be landing in about an hour and she was supposed to be picking them up from Logan International.

 

Just as she was about to leave a tentative knock came on the office doorframe caught her attention. “Hey Ruby. What’s up? I’m just getting ready to go pick up everyone.” Charlotte hadn’t travelled to London for the first press conference. As much as she had wanted to be there given Becky’s recent mishaps she trusted Alexa and Bobby to keep her in check. She was still trying to figure out exactly how to handle Becky’s little excursion in New York. Alexa had informed her that she found the redhead after losing her and they had miraculously made it to London on time.

 

Ruby wasn’t her normal confident self. Something that quickly had Charlotte wondering what was wrong. “Hey. I just wanted to ask you a quick question. Nothing big though.”

 

Charlotte knew Ruby. She knew that something was obviously bothering her. “I’ve always got time for you. They can wait a bit.”

 

“Was just wondering what your plans are with the new girl.” Hovering in the doorway like she wasn’t sure about stepping further in.

 

A frown overtook Charlotte’s face. When she first had met Ruby the blonde had honestly never imagined that they would become friends. If anyone simply looked at the two they appeared to be polar opposites but over time they had come to realize they were more alike than they thought. Bonding over their mutual need to prove themselves to those who thought they knew them at a glance. “I’m not replacing you, Rube.”

 

She seemed to have hit the nail on the head. “I… I just don’t like not knowing. Everything’s been changing so much since Lynch came on board. I just don’t want to lose my friend.”

 

Charlotte gave her a soft smile. “You aren’t losing me or your spot on this team. I know we’ve all been focusing on Becky lately but you don’t have to worry. Once this press tour is over things will settle down.”

 

Ruby smiled back. “You know it’s been awhile since we’ve gone out. I’ve been wanting to get a new tattoo. Luke was willing to give me a discount if I bring in some more work for him. You feel like getting a new one of your own?”

 

“I will take you up on that offer. Maybe we can go when I get back.”

 

“Awesome. I’ll call and see if he has a spot available for us. Drive safe.”

 

Charlotte shook her head at the woman’s tough exterior. On the inside she was a softy but you wouldn’t know that at first glance.

 

When she was finally in her car and enroute Charlotte let herself wonder how best to handle Becky’s second relapse. There was something deeper at play here and she began to think that the stress of this press tour might be too much for her fighter. But there was no way Shane would let her back out or delay at this point. She hoped this was just another bump in the road but having seen addiction waste away the last year of Reid’s life she knew that it wasn’t.

 

At least Becky hadn’t done anything too crazy. She tried not to think about how her blood boiled when Alexa mentioned finding her in bed with three women. That was just her being protective and disappointed. If only part of her didn’t feel more than a tiny bit jealous she might believe that.

 

She groaned out loud in the car and used the voice feature to call Bayley without taking her hands off the wheel. It might be a little awkward to discuss given how Bayley and Becky had last parted but Charlotte didn’t know who else to talk to about the confusing feelings stirring inside of her.

 

She wished that she could just go back to hating Becky. It would make things so much easier than whatever this was.

 

Charlotte wasn’t sure exactly when it started but Becky had started to haunt her daily life. When she cooked, she imagined Becky’s commenting on the food with her normal snarky attitude. When she worked out she imagined Becky critiquing her form and giving her shit with a wide smile on her stupidly gorgeous face.

 

The phone call went through to the reporter’s voicemail and Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows. She had called Bayley three times now in the last few days and each time the reporter didn’t pick up, nor call back. It was so outside of the woman she knew that Charlotte was now really worried about her.

 

She was already going to LA to meet up with Toni, but now she had another goal while she was out there.

 

Find out what the hell was up with her friend.

 

**Bayley**

 

This made the third alarm she’d ignored today.

 

Bayley was lying on her couch, staring blankly at her dark TV. If she counted all the alarms she’d ignored recently, it would probably be close to twenty now. Bayley ordinarily led a very structured life. This was mostly by simply inclination but also a method of keeping anxiety at bay. She had set times each day when she would update her social media accounts, when she would post any articles she had, or when she’d do anything else for her site.

 

None of those things had been done for several days now.

 

Becky’s voicemail had shaken Bayley to her core. Far more than one would have expected, even from such a hurtful tirade. Had it arrived at almost any other time in her life, Bayley would have been hurt and probably cried over it. But she would have noted Becky’s obviously intoxicated state and reached out to her a few days later.

 

Bayley was under no illusions. She knew that alcohol didn’t change anyone’s personality, it just revealed it. If Becky was capable of saying those things while drunk then she was thinking them while sober, on some level. But Bayley would have been willing to try and work through it with the fighter.

 

But the voicemail had, it seemed, been the proverbial straw. And Bayley’s emotional back was well and truly broken. Weeks or maybe even months and years of half-acknowledged insecurities and regrets had been the gunpowder, and the voicemail had been the fuse.

 

Lately, she’d been more down that was normal for her. It was a combination of many things but one of the larger factors was a continued sense of dislocation in her life. It had been a long time since she’d left her embedded gig in Boston, and yet she was realizing she hadn’t been truly happy with her job ever since, even with ESPN.

 

But thoughts like these would inevitably lead to her deeper problem. She would think about Becky, and even Charlotte had repeatedly lashed out at her. Then she would remember how she’d taken almost no time to be angry or even indignant over these episodes. Almost everyone would commend her for this, and she did make a conscious effort not to hold grudges. But was she taking that too much to heart, to the extent that she was a doormat?

 

But this possibility was somehow not the most disturbing possibility. The other was that both Becky and Charlotte were just good people at their cores. The only common inciting factor was Bayley herself. Then she’d remember how when she’d begun her secret relationship with Sasha, the fighter had been fully in control of ‘the Boss’. But while she’d been with Bayley, this persona had seized control of her.

 

Bayley was forced to ask: Was she, with no intention of being so, a toxic person. And the worst kind of toxic person, the one who didn’t seem toxic even as they damaged the lives of others around her. This might explain why she’d never been able to make a relationship work.

 

Her phone buzzed again on her coffee table. It seemed to take an inordinate amount of effort on her part to pick the device up and activate its screen. She saw that it was an incoming call from Charlotte Flair. In her depressive haze, the days were starting to blend together but she seemed to remember Charlotte calling several times before this. She ignored the call and set the phone back down. She was wondering where she’d order salty food from that day when her phone buzzed again.

 

She was tempted to ignore it but some impulse made her pick it up. It was a text message from Charlotte. The preview read: “ _Are you alright? Please tell me. If you…”_ The message was truncated in its preview form, but Bayley could guess at the rest. Part of her felt bad for making Charlotte worry, but another part just wished the other woman would take the hint.

 

She was in the process of ordering almost $40 worth of food when the phone rang again. She swore at this if it was Charlotte she might just pick up and show the blonde how it felt to get dumped on. But the screen showed that it was AJ calling. Sighing Bayley debated for a moment but then answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“ _You’re a hard one to get ahold of these days Martinez, how are you?”_ Styles asked.

 

“Yeah, sorry about that AJ. I’m pretty sick,” Bayley answered.

 

“Not too sick I hope, I need you to head out to Boston. We want you at the next Banks-Lynch presser,” AJ said, with the air of someone offering a great treat.

 

On some level, Bayley knew that in previous times she would have almost leapt out of her skin at this. It was the kind of opportunity that almost never came the way of freelancers like her. Yet now, all she could feel was apathy.

 

“I’m sorry AJ, I can’t do it. I’m not feeling up to it,” she said.

 

“ _Are you serious? This is a huge break for anyone. I’ve got other reporters that would kill for this slot,”_ Styles said incredulously. Bayley pursed her lips at this, Styles had placed the blade perfectly into her professional conscience. It was time to end this call before she gave in like the doormat she was.

 

“AJ, I’m having...uh…’feminine’ problems,” she said. In her experience, if you gave this excuse to a man they would pretty much let you do anything you wanted. Styles proved to be no exception.

 

“ _Oh...I...ummm...I’m sorry to hear- errr...just tell me when you’re feeling better. I’ll try to get you to the next one,”_ he said, sounding extremely uncomfortable.

 

“I will, thanks for understanding,” Bayley said before hanging up.

 

Dropping heavily down onto her couch once more, Bayley suddenly found she was too tired to even order food. She just stared blankly ahead, losing track of time as she did. Wondering why everyone she touched seemed to end up worse off for it.

 

**Becky**

 

Being back in Boston was nice. Even though there was another press conference in two days she was able to relax a little bit before everything began again.

 

She couldn’t help but think about Shane’s words after the last one in London.

 

She had been around long enough to know that respect didn’t sell. People wanted the trash talk. The meaner the better. People may scoff and raise their noses when it happens but in the end they would all turn in to see two people who hate each other get locked in a cage and settle their differences with their fists.

 

It wasn’t something she normally begrudged. Before her injury she had delighted in it. But right now she felt ill equipped.

 

Sasha had beaten her soundly in their last fight. No matter what Becky did that trump card was always there waiting to be played. Her old confidence had been shattered by Banks and nothing but a victory over the brash younger fighter would ever heal those wounds. But until then she was at a massive disadvantage.

 

She tried to let the thoughts drift to the back of her mind and ignore it but it was always there.

 

Becky was more than a little tired after the flight but insisted on coming into the gym to teach her class. She already felt guilty enough about missing the last one. Not to mention that, due to the press tour she would likely miss the next few classes as well.

 

Ruby helped her as always but Becky couldn’t help but notice a few faces that were noticeably no longer there. The class a few heads shorter than it was last time.

 

“Ruby, have you seen Lizzie? Was she here last week?” She asked.

 

“Haven’t seen her. Maybe she’s sick or something. We have her mom’s number on file. Why don’t you give her a call after class.”

 

So here Becky was after cleaning up, patiently listening to the phone ring as she tapped a finger against her thigh.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello Ms. Wilson. This is Becky Lynch. I was just calling to check up on Lizzie and see if everything was well. We missed her at class tonight?”

 

An uncomfortable silence followed for a few seconds. “Lizzie is fine.”

 

“Oh… That’s good to hear.” Becky gave a small uncomfortable laugh to try and break the odd tension she could feel even through the phone. “Will she be back next week. Because-”

 

“She won’t be back.”

 

The interruption felt like a slap. Maybe it was supposed to. “Is it money problems or scheduling? We can work around whatever it is. I know she loved coming to class and we loved having her here.”

 

“Listen. I don’t want you calling here again. I try to keep my daughter away from bad influences. She wanted to go because she looked up to you and I relented. In retrospect I wish I would have told her no. I knew your history but let her go anyway since that reporter said you’d been sober and were trying to be better. But then I heard about what you did to that poor girl Carmella. I can’t allow my child to be around a drunk who sexually assaults someone at a funeral ”

 

Becky’s heart began to drop. It was all too easy to see where this was going. “I understand.” She didn’t even want to try and defend herself. It was clear Torrie’s mind was already made up and any protest would be met with dismissal. Becky had already gone onto Mojo’s podcast to refute Carmella’s claims and even Bayley had made it clear that the whole story was a fabrication.

 

“Do you have a child?”

 

“No. I don’t.” Becky responded in a flat monotone.

 

“Then you can’t possibly understand. Lizzie needs people to look up to. I thought that might have been you… I was wrong. Goodbye Ms. Lynch. Please don’t make any more attempts to contact us.”

 

The call disconnected and Becky stood there. Unmoving as she tried to fight back the sadness that threatened to pull her under.

 

Silently walking out to her jeep. Silently driving back to her apartment.

 

Her apartment silent, save for the noise her feet made as she shuffled across the carpet.

 

She looked around the mostly empty space in silence.

 

Becky pulled her phone out. Pulling up her music playlist and filling the emptiness with artificial noise.

 

Surrounded by the music she still felt as empty as her apartment.

 

**Sasha**

 

“Faster hands! Or that’s what happens,” Meng barked at Sasha from where he stood behind the wing-Chun dummy. This was a form of training Sasha had never used before and she was getting frustrated. Resembling a vertical post with three evenly spaced wooden arms at head, chest and waist height. Meng had modified this model with the third arm which allowed him to manipulate it from behind. So even as Sasha sent one set of bars spinning she had to be mindful of another set that might get sent spinning at any time.

 

She hadn’t been aware enough that last time, as she’d set the lower and middle sections spinning, the upper section had swung around to clock her on the side of the head. Growling she took a step back shook her head to clear it.

 

“It’s going to be hard to train me if you concuss me,” she snarled.

 

“Awww maybe you’d like to ice it down with a champagne bottle and a whore?” Meng taunted. Despite their extremely adversarial training relationship, Sasha actually did like the crotchety old trainer. Which was not to say she always agreed with his approach.

 

“You know that no one trains with...these things,” she complained as she waved at the Wing Chun Muk Jong (the proper name for the dummy).

 

“No one else has ever had a rematch with Becky Lynch before either, and they damn sure haven’t had a rematch with her while she’s being trained by Bobby Lashley,” Meng countered.

 

“Becky Lynch on a bum knee and relapsing,” Sasha shot back. She meant to be defiant with this, but it was hard to maintain that pose while Meng howled with laughter. Only the most patient and forbearing of people could find themselves the subject of gut-busting mirth without some show of annoyance. And Sasha was neither particularly patient or forbearing. “Care to share the joke?” she asked through gritted teeth.

 

“Just that you really seem to believe that,” Meng said, still in the last burst of mirth. He wiped at the corner of his eye before he added: “Go shower and change, you smell like shit. Then meet me in the film study room.”

 

With that he walked away, still chuckling to himself. This left a decidedly miffed Sasha standing alone in front of the training dummy. She was working on a retort to shout after Meng when she took a cautious sniff of her arm. She grimaced and decided the old man was right about at least one thing.

 

Twenty minutes later, with her hair still damp, Sasha stepped into the film room to find Meng swearing at an open laptop. “Stupid fucking thing, why don't you just work!” he growled at it before letting fly with a barrage of expletives.

 

“Problems?” Sasha asked wryly.

 

“Not with film! Not with tapes! But you goddamn children and your computers,” Meng grumbled. Sasha came to stand by him and then had to hold in a laugh. Without a word, she reached past the old man to plug a small device into one of the laptop’s USB port.

 

“What the-...oh,” Meng said, his mouse suddenly cooperating with him. He frowned then and said: “They said it was a wireless mouse!”.

 

“Still need the read plugged in,” Sasha said as she patted him condescendingly on the back before moving to sit down. When she was settled she added, “And by the way, FUCK you are old.”

 

“Oh fuck off Banks,” Meng muttered as he worked laboriously away on the laptop.

 

“So what are we doing?” Sasha asked.

 

“Right now we’re waiting for Sane, she’s been working Sylvester all morning,” Meng responded distractedly. Sylvester Ritter was one of Meng’s people, a specialist in boxing. If anything his training was even more brutal than Meng’s. As if on cue, the door opened to admit a disgruntled and slightly battered looking Kairi Sane with her interpreter.

 

“Apologies for my tardiness,” she said in her somewhat halting way. Sasha was learning that Kairi understood a great deal of English, even if the pronunciation continued to stymie her.

 

“Banks, get the lights,” Meng interrupted without turning around. Sasha frowned at this offhand command but did as she was asked. When she regained her seat, Meng clicked something and a video began to play on the screen behind the trainer. It only took Sasha a few moments to recognize what she was seeing, it was the Becky Lynch-Tamina Snuka fight from over three years ago.

 

This was the fight that many considered as the one that truly announced Becky Lynch to the world. Tamina had been one of the most feared women in the MMA world, with a style that, in many ways, resembled Sasha’s own. It was thrown around at the time that Tamina’s strikes hit like her hands and feet were made of concrete. No one had given the brash newcomer from Ireland much chance at all. And they’d all been wrong.

 

Lynch had simply refused to play Snuka’s game. Darting in and out landing quick precise blows when she could, but essentially forcing the bigger fighter to chase her for two rounds. Only in the third had she gone on the attack. An obviously winded Tamina had quickly found herself on the ground in a triangle, and she had tapped within seconds.

 

Sasha knew this all by heart, indeed most of the fight was seared into her memory. This was because in the run-up to her first fight with Lynch, she’d studied it and every other fight the Irish woman had ever had (both amateur and pro) with feverish intensity. Now, as she watched, she found that the fight was like an old song she’d heard over and over.

 

Meng didn’t speak until the fight was over when he said: “Now, watch this one.”

 

With that, he started a second video. This one showed Becky’s more recent fight with Nikki Cross. This too, they all watched in silence. Sasha hadn’t seen this one as many times as some of Lynch’s other fights, but she’d made sure to study it closely nonetheless.

 

When the second fight ended, Meng stopped the video and turned to face Sasha and Kairi. “What did you see?” was all he asked.

 

Sasha exchanged a quick glance with Kairi before saying: “Two fights?”

 

“Gee, that was helpful Banks, maybe you should have been a detective,” Meng answered sarcastically.

 

“Well if you want a specific answer, then you need to tell us,” Sasha retorted.

 

“What DIFFERENCES did you see?” the old trainer snapped. Sasha blinked at this and was forcing her mind down this new direction when Kairi spoke up, speaking in Japanese to her interpreter.

 

“Kairi says that Becky Lynch is slower now,” the interpreter announced. Sasha nodded slowly, she had to agree. Lynch didn’t have her pre-injury speed.

 

“Good, what else?” Meng asked.

 

“She’s vulnerable, she’s so focused on protecting her knee that you can almost see it on the side of her head,” Sasha added.

 

“True, but now tell me why she’s even more dangerous than the first time you fought her?” Meng challenged. Sasha had no idea how to answer this question, Meng had, after all, just agreed to two observations that suggested Lynch wasn’t as good as she had once been. Still, she racked her brain, knowing that Meng would expect SOME kind of answer from her and would wait as long as he had to for it.

 

“I got nothing,” she was finally forced to admit. Meng sighed, though in a resigned way that made Sasha think he hadn’t really expected her to get this correct.

 

“Lynch is slower, and she IS protecting her knee. But what you’re both missing is what those factors have done to her overall game. Really think about it!” he urged.

 

Kairi had a quick consultation with her interpreter who then asked: “Kairi wonders if you could clarify your question, Mr. Meng.”

 

Meng rolled his eyes and opened the Nikki Cross video again. He moved the video forward to the final few exchanges of the fight and played them again. He then turned back to his fighters but when neither woman appeared to have had any epiphanies he showed it again.

 

“God damn it, I am NOT going to spell this out to you. Especially not to you Banks!” Meng stormed. And as if these words themselves were magic, the pieces clunked into place in Sasha’s mind.

 

“She’s smarter,” Sasha said, quietly but with absolute conviction. In response, Meng flashed her one of his rare genuine smiles.

 

“Your goddamn right she is. More importantly, she’s working with the best trainer there is. Dave and his boys are fine over at CCS but Lashley will not only have Lynch working harder but working smarter,” Meng said. As someone who had been under Bobby’s tutelage, Sasha couldn’t help but agree. Her former trainer worked you as hard as anyone, but he believed that teaching someone how to punch wasn’t enough. The when, where, and why were equally important.

 

Kairi had a hushed conversation with her interpreter before she said: “Perhaps...Becky Lynch, is working harder...because she is slower and-” Here she trailed off as she had another whispered conversation and her interpreter finished for her: “...Perhaps Becky Lynch is smarter and working harder because she knows she is slower and protective of her leg?”

 

Meng pounded the tabled with his palm as she beamed at the tiny Japanese woman. “YES! YES! By Christ, we’ll make a champion of you yet Sane!” He then turned to Sasha and said: “And YOU realize what this means right?”

 

“She’s..going to be tougher and smarter because she's working harder to prepare now. She’s not able to coast on talent anymore so she has to work harder before the fight. And she won’t be looking past me like last time.”

 

Meng held his hands wide and looked up as though he were exalting the sky. “By God, she CAN be taught.”

 

“Fuck you ya old bastard,” Sasha said sourly, though with a small grin on her face.

 

Meng just boomed out a laugh as she said: “Now, do you see why I’m having you do all these new things? Lynch probably spent less than an hour actually studying you last time, because she didn’t think you’d be a challenge. She won’t make that mistake again and let’s face it, your last two fights have been horseshit.”

 

Sasha scowled but couldn’t actually disagree with the statement.

 

“She’ll have more knowledge of you then she’d ever need, given whose training her. So we NEED to add some wrinkles to your game,” Meng explained. Sasha nodded, this made a lot of sense. She was about to say something else but then the door to the room opened to reveal an agitated looking Teddy standing there.

 

“I’m-” Meng started to say but Teddy cut him off with a sharp look. That was Sasha’s first warning that something was seriously wrong, Teddy was usually gentlemanly amiability.

 

“Sasha, come with me, now. We have a situation,” was all her manager said. Sasha exchanged a quick look with Kair and then Meng before she stood and walked nervously after him.

 

**Bayley/Charlotte**

 

From what Bayley could tell through the blinds of her windows, it was another lovely day in California. She hadn’t actually left her house for nearly a week, so she couldn’t be sure. The simple act of walking from her bed to the bathroom or living room was enough to sap her of her strength lately. Today had been no different, she was sitting on her couch in stained sweats and matching sweatshirt watching an episode of “The Bachelorette: Clex edition.” The mindless reality program was just the kind of thing that she needed to help drown out the harsh voices in her own head.

 

Feeling a thirst, Bayley looked down at her coffee table and the forest of cans and wrappers there. She experimentally picked up and shook several of the cans until she found one with liquid in it. Though she had no idea how old it might be, she simply drained it before tossing it aside. Deciding it wasn’t nearly enough, Bayley lurched to her feet. She moved to her fridge, but she frowned when she opened it.

 

Hadn’t she just had a 24 pack of diet Pepsi delivered yesterday? Or was it the day before? Or several days ago. Regardless it was unacceptable that she was almost out already. It was a bigger shame in that she’d already ordered “A Hunter” from a local BBQ joint. She’d have to send out for someone else to go get her more Pepsi.

 

She was just making her way back to her couch, contemplating losing the entire day on her PS4, when there was a knock on her door. Ordinarily, she would never have dreamed of answering the door in her current state, but today she didn’t much care. Plodding over to it, she pulled it open without unchaining it to look out through the crack. As she did her eyes widened involuntarily.

 

“You’re not my food,” she said.

 

Charlotte had enough of waiting for Bayley to finally pick up one of her phone calls or return a text.

 

She had been in California for a few hours and though she was scheduled to see Toni storm tonight she had made sure to keep her day open. The worry for her friend only gathering more steam with each ignored outreach.

 

That simply wasn’t the Bayley she knew. And that scared the hell out of her.

 

She walked up the steps to a cozy little apartment building. Pulling out her phone and checking the address she had weaseled out of Bayley’s boss at ESPN. He had been hesitant at first to give out the info, but once she explained who she was he immediately perked up. Apparently, he had been worrying about the reporter as well. Evidently, she had been avoiding him as well as Charlotte.

 

Even all her social media accounts had been mysteriously frozen in time. Each one suddenly dropping off the face of the earth after posting an update that dated prior to the first Banks-Lynch press conference in London. Or as some had called it, ‘The single most awkwardly polite and disappointing pressers in recent memory’.

 

She knocked on the door and waited patiently. Dressed in far more casual attire than normal with none of her usual effort. Just a simple pair of blue jeans and a pale blue shirt sans any makeup.

 

She wanted to come here as just Charlotte. Not Charlotte the gym owner, or Charlotte the manager of Becky Lynch.

 

Just Bayley’s friend.

 

When the door was answered Charlotte almost wanted to cry right then and there but held it in. Bayley looked like a shadow of her normal self. It pained the blonde to see her in such disarray.

 

“Damn right I’m not.” She replied to Bayley’s greeting. “You wouldn’t answer any of my calls so I decided to come in person. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you right now but I’m not leaving anytime soon. Can I come in?”

 

Bayley closed her eyes, she didn’t have the energy for this. And though she would ordinarily never say this to a friend, much less Charlotte (who could still intimidate her) she said: “I’m really tired Charlotte, can we do this another time” As she said this tried to close the door only to find it held firm.

 

Charlotte held steady and met Bayley’s eyes. Her wording deliberate. “No. We’re doing this now. I’m not going to let you push me away… You didn’t let me.” She held the brunette’s gaze for a few seconds and added. “Please.”

 

Bayley tried once more to shut the door, but her general lethargy plus the fact that Charlotte would have been more powerful than her on her best day made this impossible. She sagged in defeat, she didn’t even have the energy to argue. “Fine…” she muttered before nodding at the chain “...move your hand.”

 

For a second Charlotte contemplated not moving her hand. Worried that Bayley would use the moment to just shut and lock the door on her. Before she relented she said, “If you try to lock this on me I will break it down. Just so you know. I’d pay for the damage of course.”

 

Bayley saw in Charlotte’s eyes that only the top 1% of this statement was meant as a joke. Nodding, she closed the door, waiting a moment and then unchained it and unlocked it. The second she had she walked slowly over to her couch and fell face down on it, not even caring about the state of her apartment.

 

Charlotte walked inside and immediately scanned the apartment and its state of decay. She frowned deeply and sighed. Walking further inside to hover over the couch. Her hands idle at her side. Unsure of what to do just as she herself was. “I always knew you were a bit of a slob but this is a little ridiculous.”

 

“Is that why you came? To criticize me?” Bayley asked, not really caring about the answer. Right now all she wanted was for Charlotte to go away.

 

So that’s how this was going to be. Charlotte was nothing if not stubborn and dealing with Becky helped her brush off the words. She wasn’t speaking to Bayley right now. “I came to see my friend. My friend who has been avoiding me for almost a week now.”

 

Charlotte walked around the couch so that Bayley had no excuse to not acknowledge her.

 

“I’m worried about you Bay. Talk to me.” The sight of the woman who was normally so full of life so still and morose terrified Charlotte. “A.J. said you haven’t been coming in to work and I checked your site. What’s wrong?”

 

Unbidden, a sudden spark of anger appeared in Bayley’s gut. This was something else she’d realized over the last few days. No one EVER seemed to be looking out for her. Charlotte herself had been the woman who had sent her to talk to Becky just after Sasha had delivered her ‘wedding invitation’. The blonde wasn’t stupid, she had to know what was going on, but she’d done it anyway.

 

“YOU are worried, well let me drop everything to reassure you. That’s all I do right? You, Becky, Sasha you kick me and then I come back and apologize for being kicked. Charlotte’s problems, Charlotte’s worries, that’s all that matters right? And how do you even know where HERE is?” Bayley said finally looking up. She was doing her best to channel nothing but anger but she couldn’t keep a slight hitch from her voice. And this just made her more frustrated.

 

Charlotte felt like crying but this wasn’t about her right now. “I didn’t come all the way to LA for me. I came here for you. I came here for one of my best friends in the world. Bayley, I came here for you.” She cursed herself as a few tears leaked out, swiftly wiping them away. “Seeing you right now… I know I’m right where I should be. I called your boss. Even he was worried about you. You haven’t been going in to work and he told me you turned down an opportunity to cover the press conference in Boston. I’m not here to blame you or try and clear my own conscience. All I want is to know you’re safe and I’m not leaving till you show me that the Bayley I know is still in there.”

 

Charlotte finished her speech and walked towards the kitchen. Furiously rummaging through the cupboards until she found a box of trash bags. Pulling one out and beginning to move around the pigsty that was Bayley’s apartment. Throwing away the cartons of old food and empty cans of diet Pepsi without saying anything.

 

Bayley fumed for a moment. Was she really that invisible? Would no one EVER listen to her? She was trying to think of something truly crushing that might get Charlotte angry at her but while she did she said: “You never told me how you knew where I live.”

 

“Does it matter? I’m here now and you’re not getting rid of me.” Charlotte quipped while throwing away a particularly old and stale bag of half-eaten _sabor de soledad_ chips. Wrinkling her nose at the smell that wafted out of it. “How the hell do you eat these things? I’m going to introduce you to Sunchips. At least those are healthier than this garbage.”

 

“ _Oh, jódete,”_ Bayley muttered, all the fight going out of her as she forced herself to sit up and look around. Somehow she hadn’t noticed until Charlotte got here, but it was looking awful. But that didn’t mean she was ready to concede defeat “Look, can you just go? You can tell yourself you checked on me now, hooray you’re a good person and you can sleep at night. I just...I-” She trailed off as she had to fight back a sob and buried her head in her hands.

 

Charlotte didn’t know if Bayley wanted her to say anything about it. She gave the woman a bit of space and time to pull herself back together. This still wasn’t the real Bayley speaking so she tried not to take her words too seriously.

 

She continued to throw random trash into the bag before moving to the epicenter of the garbage. Clearing off what used to be a coffee table in front of Bayley’s couch that was now a veritable dumpster.

 

After a few seconds of throwing things away, Charlotte’s hand froze in mid-air and her heart began to pound uncontrollably in her chest. She was prepared for a depressed Bayley but this was enough to make her want to throw up. “Bayley… What is this out here for?” Reaching down and picking up a standard razor one could find in any general store.

 

Bayley didn’t look up, her face still buried in her hands. “Just go away,” she said, though it wasn’t a command now. It was a plea.

 

Charlotte wanted to scream. This wasn’t something she could just walk away from and ever look herself in the mirror again. “Jesus Christ Bayley. Please talk to me. I’m not asking anymore, but I’m not leaving until you do. If you think I could just leave you like this than you don’t know me at all.”

 

Charlotte threw the razor down on the edge of the couch like it was on fire and knelt down. Reaching out with her hand and gently letting it rest on Bayley’s knee. Careful not to startle the other woman. The only thing on her mind was making whoever made Bayley feel this way pay. But that could come later. RIght now her friend desperately needed her even if she couldn’t admit it yet.

 

“Take all the time in the world. I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Bayley looked over at the small sound and froze. She saw the sunlight glinting off the razor, more than that she was transfixed. She stared for a long time, sensing Charlotte’s eyes on her. Eventually, a few tears fell and, in an entirely broken voice, she said: “I haven’t done it...not yet. I used to when I was a teenager but...I…” She stopped here and trailed off.

 

Charlotte couldn’t stand seeing Bayley like this and slowly wrapped her up in a hug. Thanking whatever god had allowed her to arrive before Bayley had made a choice she couldn’t come back from. “It’s alright.” Nothing was alright. “It’s alright. You’re so goddamn strong. Stronger than you realize Bayley.” Charlotte simply held onto the other woman as she sobbed. She didn’t say anything more. She could call Toni and reschedule if she needed. Even her flight could be changed. But she had to be here now. She had to be here till she saw the Bayley she knew. Not the depression that was currently influencing her actions.

 

Bayley’s mind was back in what had once been her darkest days. The days when she, a skinny teenager, had been mercilessly bullied by the other girls at her school. She’d cut herself back then to try and distract herself from problems she didn’t feel she could share with anyone. And now, in Charlotte’s arms, she was aware of how far she’d fallen that she was considering it again. She cried for a while longer before she finally managed to speak.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

 

People always say talking helps.” Charlotte offered. Not wanting to push the reporter when she was in such a fragile state. “If it makes you feel any better I don’t know what I’m doing 24/7.” It wasn’t much of a joke but she wanted Bayley to know that there was still some light even in the darkest of times.

 

Without a word, Bayley disengaged from Charlotte and picked up her phone. Opening her voicemail, she handed it Charlotte and then fell sideways onto her couch. As she did she covered her ears.

 

Charlotte held the phone like it was a bomb. Obviously whatever was on here was what sent Bayley into her current state and that knowledge made her wary of the voicemails content. She stared at the name that shone from the screen. _‘Becky Lynch’_

 

Even before she pressed play Charlotte was scared to listen but knew she had to.

 

Nearly two minutes later and the blonde was vibrating with rage. She had half a mind to throw the phone against the wall but that wasn’t her decision to make. Alexa had told her about finding Becky hungover with those whores and Charlotte had been upset but understanding. She had known there was a high chance that Becky would relapse again but this was something else entirely.

 

“I’m going to kill that bitch.” She muttered before putting the phone down and gently taking Bayley’s hands in her own. Pulling them off of her ears and wrapping her own around Bayley’s cold fingers. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. I know how hard that must have been to share with me. Goddamnit Bayley, I’m so fucking sorry. She had no right to say those things.”

 

Bayley let her hands be moved away from her ears as she found herself where she’d spent most of the last week. Laying on her couch, staring blankly. Without being fully aware of what she said she asked: “What if she’s right?”

 

“She’s not. Not one word she said. I’m not giving her a pass on this but she was hurting and said whatever she could that would make someone feel as bad as she was. You are the kindest, most caring friend anyone could ever ask for. Becky is a thoughtless asshole that doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.” Charlotte was so angry that she was having a hard time thinking straight. Nearly blinded by the rage she felt towards her fighter. But she had to be strong for Bayley right now. Becky’s time would come.

 

Bayley sniffed as she managed to sit up. She looked around in a daze, almost as if she were just seeing her apartment for the first time. “I...I’m sorry for the mess,” was all she could say, a small almost manic giggle escaping her lips. Why not, she thought. There were so many emotions warring inside her right now, why not laugh?

 

“I could care less about the mess.” Charlotte threw out. The state of her apartment was just a symptom of the real problem. “I just want you to be alright. And I know that you aren’t magically going to be ok. You shouldn’t be. What she said was cruel and you didn’t deserve one second of her bullshit.”

 

Bayley was silent for a second and Charlotte looked around the apartment one more time.

 

Charlotte got up from her kneeling position and clapped her hands. “Alright. We’re going out for some food. My treat. And I won’t hear anything to the contrary. When a Flair speaks you damn well better listen. Up and at ‘em Ms. Reporter Woman. Looks like the fresh air will do you some good.”

 

Bayley looked down at herself and asked: “Can I change first?”

 

Half an hour later Charlotte and a much more together looking Bayley were sitting in on the hood of Charlotte’s rental outside of a Clex’s. Despite Bayley’s almost exclusively fast food and delivery diet in recent days, she hadn’t actually eaten Clex’s in a very long time. But now she was remembering how much she liked it, and there was the small fact that the ‘Boss Bowl’ was no longer on the menu.

 

“See? I told you,” she said around a mouthful of rice.

 

Charlotte scarfed down the delicious food and tried to swallow before speaking. “Alright. I cave. I will always listen to you when it comes to food. I’ve learned my lesson.”

 

The small smile on Bayley’s face, maybe her first in a week, felt very good. But it faded quickly as she remembered Becky and her voicemail. Cautiously, without looking over at Charlotte she asked: “So what are you going to do?” Knowing that the other woman would catch her meaning.

 

The mood quickly changed and Charlotte tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t ruin the progress she and Bayley had made. “I’m not entirely sure. Part of me doesn’t want to ever see her again, but I know that this has to be dealt with. I don’t care if she was drunk or high or if a ghost possessed her. She was way out of line.” Charlotte took another small bite from her bowl and chewed over her next words. “I’ll take suggestions. What do you want me to do?”

 

She didn’t want to put the burden at Bayley’s feet but thought that she deserved her own input given she was the target of Becky’s ire.

 

Bayley sighed as she set her food to one side, no longer hungry. “I don’t know, I wish I could ask her why, but I know I won’t get an answer. I don’t think Becky would know. I just...want the people around me to stop crashing, and crashing into me.”

 

Charlotte didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to give false hope or empty platitudes. She wiped one of her hands with a napkin and reached out to grab one of Bayley’s now free hands. “I can’t promise you anything. But I know that you are strong enough to get through this. I wish I could take away the pain or tell you it gets better. But it won’t. It will always be there. If there was anyone in the world who I’d trust to make it through the mile of shit you’re wading through it would be you. And I’ll be with you as much as I can. Maybe one day she will realize that she made the biggest mistake in her life and come crawling back. When that happens it’s up to you to decide if it’s worth it to let her back in.” Charlotte knew they were speaking about Becky but the specter of Sasha was always there too and the words worked for either woman. “Your happiness and health need to come first though.”

 

“Are we talking about me and Becky, me and Sasha, or you and Becky?” Bayley asked.

 

Charlotte swallowed at Bayley’s perceptiveness. “Can I just say all of the above?”

 

Bayley sighed and put an arm around Charlotte’s shoulder. “Maybe they’ll both come around,” she said as she gave her friend a squeeze. She was quiet for a moment before she added: “ _Gracias, te pegaste chica blanca.”_

 

“You never have to thank me. You’ve done far more for me than I can ever repay… Not that I’m counting.” Charlotte added. Indulging in the feeling of her friend's arm around her. It was a small sign, but it was a sign that the real Bayley was coming back out.

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

“Faster! I bet Sasha’s not half-assing it like this. You want to lose again?”

 

Becky responded to Bobby’s words by driving even harder. The weighted sled she pushed across the room moved just a bit faster. Legs burning from the intense training session. Her mind held together by the hope that she was nearly done. She wouldn’t give up though. Even if it meant she wouldn’t be able to move when Lashley finally told her to stop.

 

“And… TIME! Go cool down. We’re done for the day.”

 

Becky flopped down to the ground in a pool of her own sweat. Sucking in deep breaths to try and slow her heart rate. Between New York, the trip to London and back she hadn’t had a real workout in five days and was feeling the effects of the layoff.

 

She slowly got back to her feet and let herself walk around the gym to keep her leg muscles from locking up on her. Going through her cooldown period and grabbing a towel to wipe her face. Looking over at Bobby who had been cleaning up all the stations he had set up for the last of today’s workouts.

Liv passed by and Becky called out, “Hey Liv. Is Charlotte back from LA yet? I haven’t seen her come in.”

 

The tiny woman replied. “She got in about an hour ago. Locked herself up in her office.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Becky began to wander towards the blonde’s office, absentmindedly sipping from a water bottle. She didn’t want to really admit it but she had actually missed seeing the other woman. Actually starting to feel a bit closer to Charlotte since the blonde had apologized. It didn’t take away how much some of her words still stuck to her like a painful brand, but it helped.

 

She politely knocked on the door but impolitely entered before getting a reply. “ _Hola_ Charlie. How was LA? Make any new friends?”

 

Becky had been in a teasing mood but the glare Charlotte sent her had her backtracking. Maybe this wasn’t the moment to prod the bear. As much fun as it was, she preferred when the blonde would verbally spar back and she didn’t seem in the mood for that.

 

Charlotte stood up and walked around her desk. “Close the door.”

 

“Umm alright.” Becky turned to gently close the door and turned back only to be hit in the face so hard that she stumbled back into the door. The frosted glass rattling as Becky tried to get her bearings back after the punch she hadn’t seen coming.

 

“You stupid, careless mother fucker.”

 

Becky leaned back against the door. One of her hands coming up to touch her rapidly swelling left eye. She could already tell the end result would be one impressive looking black eye. “Damn. What the hell was that Charlotte?”

 

Charlotte had wanted some more time before this confrontation but like always Becky loved to push things. The redhead’s dismissive response only making it worse. Becky moved to push herself off the door but the blonde shoved her back. “You’re lucky I haven’t fired your ass already. I could care less about the money right now.”

 

The anger that was always just under the surface started to rise. “I know. I fucked up again in New York. My bad. But if you hit me one more time I’m gonna start swinging back.”

 

“YOU THINK!” Charlotte was incensed. How the hell did Becky get off acting so blase when Bayley had been so low. All she wanted right now was for the redhead to feel some fraction of the pain she had dealt to the woman she had claimed to like. She went for another punch but the fighter saw it a mile away this time and ducked underneath.

 

Becky was just able to keep a lid on her anger and only pushed the other woman away. She easily could have landed a punch of her own but held back. “You’re going to regret this.”

 

“No. I really won’t.” Charlotte angrily replied before surprising the Irish woman and lashing out with a kick to the inside of Becky’s surgically repaired knee. The shock of the blow sending the redhead down to the ground and her butt. One hand reaching down to hold her knee as it throbbed in fresh pain.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ Charlie! What the hell is your problem?”

  
“YOU! You just can’t fall without dragging someone down with you. Can you?”

 

Becky was confused. “Listen. I know I fucked up. I shouldn’t have gone out and drank with Kelly and her friends. It was a stupid decision. I’m sorry if you’re jealous-”

 

“JEALOUS!?!? You think I’m jealous of some skank’s who walk around the ring in barely anything holding a sign? I can barely look at you right now. How the hell can you even act so normal after what you’ve said?” Charlotte spat out with clenched fists as she stood over the fallen redhead.

 

If Becky was confused before she was utterly bewildered now. “What? Are you going to get on me about the press conference now? Shane already beat you to it.”

 

“This isn’t about the stupid conference. You’re fucking message to Bayley is what I’m pissed about.” Charlotte was so close to beating the uncaring look off Becky’s face. “She wouldn’t fall in line with what you wanted so you call her out of spite. I can’t even think straight right now I’m so disappointed in you. Just when I thought… No.” She took a deep breath to try and find a semblance of calm in the storm. “I just don’t get you Becky. Why? Why her?”

 

Rapidly paling lips held a barely perceptible tremble. “I talked to Bayley?” The pieces began to slowly form a frame of what had happened.

 

“No. You destroyed her.” Charlotte answered succinctly. “Congratulations Becky. You did it. Do you feel better knowing that you got what you wanted?” She had to swallow hard and fight back from sobbing. The memory of Bayley all alone in a messy apartment was going to stick with her for a long time.

 

“That’s not… I don’t know.” Becky took her time getting back to her feet. Careful to keep her weight off the knee. She was tempted to not ask but she needed to know. “What did I say?”

 

“You can’t be serious?” Charlotte stated doubtfully. Her eyes searching the brown eyes across from her and finding the truth. “Are you kidding me? You really don’t remember.” The revelation did nothing to quell the rage. In some ways, it made it harder to contain, while a much quieter part of her felt a sliver of sympathy.

 

“Just tell me. Please.” Becky wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she knew she needed to. The border of the puzzle was finished but she needed to see what the full picture was.

 

The tall blonde turned her back on Becky and walked back to lean against her desk. She couldn’t be close to the redhead without wanting to shake her. “You said she was worthless. She didn’t deserve your time. And that’s the more PG comments.” Charlotte swore loudly and banged a fist into her desk hard enough to shake everything on it. “She hadn’t left her apartment in a week when I got there. Even her boss was worried about her.”

 

The urge to throw up grew. Becky felt sick. They hadn’t spoken much about it but Becky knew that Bayley had been bullied when she was younger. She had seen first hand how Mandy had attacked her whenever she had a chance.

 

Apparently, Becky wasn’t any better than those assholes.  

 

Maybe she really was a masochist, “I need to know what I said Charlotte. Please. I’m not above begging right now.”

 

Charlotte didn’t know if she gave in out of pity or some desire to see Becky understand the depths she had sunk to. Drunk or not it didn’t preclude her from the consequences.

 

She sighed and reached down to her phone. Pulling up the audio file she had copied from Bayley’s phone while the woman had been changing for their outing to Clex’s. She knew Bayley wouldn’t ever use the voicemail against Becky even after how she acted but Charlotte had been so angry that she had actually contemplated it.

 

“If that’s what you want,” Charlotte said before pressing the play button. Her rage burning bright once again as the message played. Becky’s drunk slurring voice filling the office as the present Becky listened on in horrified disgust. She watched the slow realization of just how low she had hit Bayley dawn on the redhead’s face.

 

The message ended and a heavy silence fell over the office. Becky nodded and stared into the corner of the room. Her lower jaw grinding left and right even though her lips never parted. The soaked black tank top she had been wearing felt suffocating now. “Well… That uh explains why she didn’t answer… Huh… That sucks.”

 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the oddly underwhelming reaction. It was hard to read Becky’s reaction. It almost seemed like resignation.

 

“Thanks for umm being honest with me Charlotte.” Becky hadn’t blinked. Staring at anything but the blonde. It was odd how she felt after hearing herself viciously tear apart Bayley. It was odd in that she felt nothing. Maybe it was just a delayed reaction and she was just shocked.

 

She knew it was her. She recognized the voice. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. She had been selfish to allow Bayley to be her friend. For a brief moment, she wished that she hadn’t listened to Bayley that first time outside the bar. She should have just gone inside. At least the reporter would have been spared the false hope that there was a good person beneath it all.  

 

Charlotte had to get away before she said something she’d truly regret. Maybe tomorrow she could try and give Becky the help she obviously needed but she simply couldn’t right now.

 

The way Becky had responded still bothered her and Charlotte wanted to make sure the Irish fighter knew how deeply she had fucked up.

 

She walked towards the door and Becky reflexively stepped out of the way. Her hand wrapped around the handle but she stopped short of actually opening it. “You want honesty… When I got to Bayley’s apartment… Becky. She had a fucking razor out… Jesus. I got there before she did anything… You wanted honesty.”

 

Becky gulped but still wouldn’t look at Charlotte. Her head nodding almost imperceptibly, although it may have just been from the tremors she saw in the tense muscles on display. “I did.” Voice unnaturally hoarse and gritty. Like she was speaking through a sandpaper microphone.

 

“We’ll talk more tomorrow Becky. But I can’t pretend this didn’t happen.” Charlotte clenched her teeth and exhaled deep through her nose. “Don’t call her again. She won’t answer. Send a text trying to explain yourself if you must but only one. Give her the time she needs. She’ll get back to you if she feels like it eventually.”

 

Becky nodded clearly. The shaking of her shoulders only getting worse as she tried to hold back until Charlotte left the room.

 

“You shouldn’t go out tonight,” Charlotte said before finally opening the door and stepping outside.

 

Only when the office door closed did Becky allow herself to feel.

 

Charlotte listened from just beyond the door as guttural sobs seemed to be pulled out of Becky’s mouth against her will. Some outside force reaching down her throat to yank the sound from her vocal cords.

 

She felt rooted to the spot as the noises cut through her to the core but only had to think back to the vile words Becky had spouted and her feet began to move her away from the office.

 

The sounds slowly fading as she moved downstairs and further away from Becky.

 

“Hey, Liv,” Charlotte called out to the shorter woman.

 

“Charlotte! What’s up?” Liv’s bright cheery smile so opposite of Charlotte’s current mood.

 

“Can you send me a text when Becky leaves?”

 

Liv’s cheer turned to confusion but she knew that Charlotte wouldn’t ask without a purpose. “Uh yeah. I can do that.”

 

“Thanks, Liv.” Charlotte reached into her wallet and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Take yourself and Ruby out for a nice dinner.” Politely brushing away the blonde’s thanks and walking outside to her car and driving back to her apartment. She wanted to get a bit of rest with the press conference tomorrow. She also had a feeling she’d be going out sometime late tonight.

 

**Becky**

 

The phone rang for just a second before she was sent to voicemail. Becky expected it. She couldn’t begrudge Bayley not wanting to speak to her. Charlotte hadn’t spoken to her since their scuffle. Even Liv, Ruby and Alexa were acting odd around her. They might not know exactly what happened, but they clearly knew something was wrong.

 

“Hey… I just wanted to-” Becky shook her head and deleted the message. Head falling into her hands.

 

How the hell do you apologize for what she did?

 

Becky hadn’t begun to forgive herself. She didn’t know if that would ever be possible.

 

She couldn’t bring herself to try calling again. She didn’t deserve it. Bayley didn’t deserve her shit.

 

What kind of monster said those things to someone they claimed to care about?

 

What did it make her? To drive someone so far that they thought about hurting themselves?

 

Did monster even cover it?

 

No. She was something worse altogether. She was a vampire to all those around her. Sucking away at their own happiness as they were forced to compensate for her innate selfishness.

 

Every time she tried to be better it ended in failure. What was the point of even trying?

 

Becky took a shaky breath as she fought the sobs that shook her body. Why was she crying? She had no right. It wasn’t her that was the victim. She was the evil one here. The cause of Bayley’s pain and that knowledge was ripping at her insides.

 

She wished she could deny ever saying those things but Bayley would never lie about something like this to Charlotte. Not remembering the call didn’t make it better in her mind. If anything it made it worse.

 

Alcohol didn’t make her suddenly feel or say those horrific things. That was all Becky. That ugliness was undeniably inside of her just waiting to be unleashed on those that deserved it the least.

 

All it took was one bad day. Just a few comments and Finlay telling her a truth she didn’t want to hear..

 

It disgusted her. Becky Lynch disgusted Rebecca Quin.

 

What else was there for her? She wasn’t forgivable. Was she?

 

Are some things too horrific, too ugly to atone for?

 

Did she even want atonement?

 

Redemption isn’t a finish line to cross and all is magically forgiven. Redemption was never-ending. Something you had to work at every day. And Rebecca was tired. The only end to redemption was death. Final and absolute.

 

When she looked in the mirror she didn’t recognize Rebecca Quin. All she saw was Becky Lynch. The woman she let herself become.

 

Sasha’s old words floated back to haunt her.

 

_“Bayley always sees the best in everyone, that’s her gift...even the people who don’t deserve it… Bayley will always try to help people she thinks need it. Even if they try to tell her to go away.”_

 

Becky knew she didn’t deserve Bayley’s help anymore. There wasn’t anything good in her for Bayley to see. Anything about her that seemed decent was a mirage and Bayley finally got close enough to see that.  

 

If even Bayley didn’t see anything worth saving in her than what was the point of trying to pretend there was.

 

Charlotte didn’t want to deal with her. Not that Becky could blame her. If she hadn’t been in line for such a big payday, surely the blonde would prefer to have nothing to do with her.

 

All she was good for was making a spectacle of herself.

 

She wanted to grieve for the innocence she had stolen. Bayley was bleeding on the floor and all she could do was close the door. Close the door on the firestorm of grief that threatened to make her look at herself and ask if she was worth it.

 

She wasn’t.

 

Becky threw on a zip-up hoodie and rushed out the door of her apartment. Throwing the hood over her head to hide her easily recognizable hair from the world.

 

She had a press conference in less than twelve hours. That gave her plenty of time to drink so much that she could forget what a horrible person she was.

 

Anger had made her feel powerful. But vice could help her feel nothing.

 

Nothing was what she deserved.

 

Nothing was what she needed.

 

Nothing was all she had left.

 

It’s all nothing.

 

(The only way out of grief, is through it)

 

**Sasha**

 

The universe and whatever god or gods within it were really making Sasha pay for her resolution to be ‘better’.

 

It had been several days since Teddy had shown her the early clips of Zelina’s exclusive sit down with TMZ. And now that the full thing had aired, Sasha found that she didn’t want to be better.

 

She wanted to go find that stupid little slut and strangle her with her own weave.

 

One quote, in particular, was stuck in her craw. Zelina, looking oh so earnest, had said: “I fell in love with the Sasha Banks I thought I knew, but I guess she was only that person when she wanted something from me. When...she wanted my body. Now I’m left with a broken heart and she gets to just continue on her with her life.”

 

This might have been the most striking cases of ‘pot and kettle’ in the 21st century. Sasha had ‘met’ Zelina when the woman had started rubbing her ass against Sasha’s hips in a club. Zelina had been the one constantly demanding that Sasha include her in everything. Admittedly, Sasha had been happy to allow this so long as Zelina had been compliant with her demands. But it was hard for Sasha to see Zelina as a victim.

 

The rest of the world didn’t seem to have this same problem.

 

Teddy had tasked some of his people with measuring social media reaction to the interview, it had been overwhelmingly bad for her. This combined with the fallout from the London presser had left her reputation near an all-time low. It seemed people didn’t want a better and more human Sasha Banks. They just wanted the boss, but apparently, a boss that only treated Zelina Vega like a princess.

 

If this was how being a better person felt, Sasha honestly didn’t know how Bayley managed to live her whole life as one.

 

“So what does this mean?” Sasha asked.

 

“It means that you’re in danger of losing more sponsors, if not all of them. This came out of nowhere, so we didn’t get a chance to get out in front of it. Now we need to go into full damage control mode. I tried to contact Alexa Bliss to bring her in but she’s apparently working with another client indefinitely,” Teddy Long answered.

 

“She’s working with Charlotte Flair,” Sasha said dully.

 

“Whatever the case, I’m looking into other firms. Maybe Cade and Murdoch. But we need to get your side of the story out in front of people.

 

Sasha nodded automatically but didn’t answer. What Teddy was saying made sense in general, but she wasn’t sure how useful it would be in this particular case. Sasha’s side of the story wasn’t much better than what Zelina was putting out there. What was she supposed to say? She’d only ever used Zelina as a distraction and had only proposed to her as part of a temper tantrum directed at the woman she actually loved?

 

You didn’t rise to Sasha’s level of fame without developing an instinct for PR matters. Sasha knew that your everyday sit-down interview wouldn’t do her much good now. There was really only one person she would have trusted to do it right, but that person was Bayley. She’d have to think of something else.

 

“What if-” she said suddenly, cutting off whatever Teddy had been saying.

 

“What is it playa?” he asked, sounding like he was eager for any kind of lifeline.

 

“I have an idea....it might work,” Sasha said thoughtfully. She was thinking of the rambling mess of a video message she’d recorded for Bayley. A message she hadn’t yet sent and wasn’t sure if she ever would.

 

“Well? Are you going to tell me?” Teddy asked impatiently.

 

Sasha told him.

 

That had been just an hour ago, and now here she was sitting on one of the couches in her living room. As with when she’d recorded her message to Bayley she found that it was very hard to actually begin. But she made herself take a few deep breaths before looking into the camera that she’d position on her coffee table.

 

“My name is Sasha Mercedes Banks, you probably know that. Some of you may know me better as ‘the boss’...and some of you may prefer the boss to me. I don’t begrudge you that, I created that monster and now she’s mine to deal with. But I’m here now to talk to you as just me, Sasha Banks, a girl from Boston who never thought she’d have her own house period, never mind a place like this where I can talk to you. I’m not going to pretend like you don’t know why I’m here. The recent interview given to TMZ by my former fiance, Zelina Vega. “

 

Sasha sighed here as she closed her eyes for a second. Without opening them she went on saying: “First, and above all else. I want to say…Zelina...I am sorry. Not for the things, you accused me of in your interview, only you know why you said those things we both know are untrue. But I’m sorry for things I DID do, and I want to be perfectly open about them now…”

 

It took Sasha less than ten minutes to finish her message and only one try. Once she’d started talking she found that words came easy, pouring out of her in a steady stream. When she’d finished she sent the video directly to her phone and then to Teddy. Her manager had prevailed on her not to release it immediately, but to let him consult with a PR expert first. Sasha had said she would but had also decided that if Teddy dragged his feet too long she’d release it on her own.

 

This done, and seized by a sudden motivation, Sasha opened her laptop and opened her email. Her finger shook slightly as she located the once familiar contact: _me@mmayley.com._ Forcing herself to select it before her resolve faltered, Sasha attached her video message to the email and, without giving it a subject, she sent it.

 

Now all she could do is wait.

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

Charlotte wasn’t at all surprised when she had gotten a call to come pick up a drunk Becky Lynch from some random bar in downtown Boston. Liv had texted her when the redhead left the gym and Charlotte had mentally prepared herself for whatever might come. She had actually been planning on going to the fighter’s apartment to check in on her but the call had came in first.

 

The bartender she had spoken to had apparently managed to coax her number from the belligerent woman. How he had done that with a drunk Becky Lynch was a mystery but .   

 

It had been hard for her to even look at Becky after seeing Bayley and the aftermath of the redhead’s words. She had been trying to help the Irish woman through whatever issues she had been having but had nearly given up right then. The only thing that held her back was the gut wrenching genuine sorrow and regret she had heard through her office door.

 

The regret and horror she had seen and heard made Charlotte’s fury dampen ever so slightly. At the time she hadn’t cared much that Becky felt bad about it, but the show of humanity had held her hand and stopped her from terminating Becky’s contract right then and there.

 

She found a space to park and ran inside before the night chill had a chance to sink in.

 

The bar was nearly empty. One in the morning on a Wednesday meant that only a few drunks remained.

 

“You must be Charlotte.”

 

The woman in question turned her eyes towards the man behind the bar. An older man with his heavily graying hair slicked back like some sort of 80’s movie villain. A wood toothpick dangling out from his lips. The cuban accent and bright colored button up finishing the image.

 

“That’d be me. What can I call you?”

“Scott is just fine with me.” He gave her a sad smile and tilted his head towards the end of the bar. “Your girl’s down there.”

 

Charlotte looked down the bar and saw Becky slumped against the bartop. Head lying down on the wood as she spun an empty shot glass. “She’s not my girl.”

 

“Didn’t mean nothing by it ma’am. Just thought she might be given what she was saying.”

 

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked. Curious as to why he would assume that. Last time she had spoken to Becky the redhead had been holding an ice pack to a black eye Charlotte had given her.

 

“She didn’t say much. I asked her who I could call to pick her up and she started going on and on about how she wasn’t even sure you’d come. Said you both had gotten into a fight over another girl and how neither of you’d pick up.”

 

“I was honestly considering leaving her here.”

 

“What stopped you?” Scott asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

 

“I’ll let you know if I figure it out.” Charlotte replied. Already walking down the bar towards the drunk redhead and calling over her shoulder. “Thanks for the call.”

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

Charlotte tried to be casual as she walked towards Becky. She just couldn’t stop her heart from beating faster. A rush of anger on Bayley’s behalf surging as she got closer. Not as strong as before but still there.

 

“Get up Becky. You’re going back home.”

 

Becky picked her head up off the bar and gave the blonde a wide but obviously fake smile. “Charlie! How da fuck ya doin’? You wanna drink? HEY SCOTTY! Beam me ‘nother drink.” Laughing at her own reference.

 

Charlotte took a deep breath. “Becky. We’re leaving. Now!”

 

“Ugh! You’re such a bore Charlie. Live a lil.”

 

“This isn’t living. This is avoiding.”

 

Becky waved a hand in dismissal. Pushing away from the bar and standing unsteadily. “Yer no fun at all. Mus’ be years since anyone’s given you a proper fuck eh? Gotta be tighter than a nun’s ass.”

 

Charlotte closed her eyes for a second and reminded herself to not react. That would undoubtedly just make this all worse. “Come on. Let’s get you back in your own bed. You’ve got to be ready for tomorrow’s press conference.”

 

“Ahh. Me own bed. Sure you don’t want me to come warm yer’s up a bit?” The redhead said. Brushing away the offered help and stumbling towards the door.

  
“You smell like a distillery and are going to be throwing up your guts anytime now. Not exactly what I’m looking for.” Charlotte shook her head as she walked behind the drunk. Shooting Scott one last appreciative look before following Becky outside.

 

Charlotte watched as the redhead moved towards her car and leaned against it to stop the swaying. “Hey Charlie?”

 

“What?”

 

“You seen my keys?”

 

Charlotte sighed loudly and went towards the passenger side of her car. “I’ll go check. Sit down. I’ll be back in a minute.” Gently grabbing a hold of the drunk and steering her inside the car.

 

She closed the door and made sure to lock the car doors before trudging back inside the bar and going up to Scott once again.

 

“Any chance she left her keys in here?”

 

Scott gave her a look and she knew the answer before he spoke. “Sorry. You can check if you want but I didn’t see ‘em.”

 

Charlotte took a moment to look at the floor but didn’t see anything.

 

“She gonna be alright?” Scott asked.

 

“Eventually. I’ll bring her to my place tonight. Thanks again for everything.”

 

Scott gave a sad smile that held a weight Charlotte couldn’t begin to imagine. “Tell Lynch I wish her the best.”  The blonde gave him a look. She didn’t want this little excursion to end up in the news and had hoped that Scott hadn’t recognized the woman in his bar. “Don’t worry. I won’t say nothin’. Looks like she could use a break.”

 

“Thanks.” Charlotte wanted to say that Becky didn’t deserve a break but it was abundantly clear that she wasn’t drinking because she was proud of herself.

 

When she walked back outside she wasn’t terribly surprised to see Becky outside of the car bent over double and throwing up the contents of her stomach onto the cold pavement.

 

“At least you didn’t do that in my car.”

 

Becky had a comeback ready but her stomach choose that exact moment to painfully contract and cause her to retch. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand once the feeling passed and walking back into the car. Settling into her seat and leaning back while Charlotte stared at her.

 

“Didn’t find your keys. You can stay on my couch tonight.”

 

“They’re probably just back at the gym.” Becky lamented quietly.

 

Charlotte wanted to roll her eyes but just held back. “And you left them there because?”

 

“I ‘unno.”

 

It was hard but Charlotte managed to breathe through it. “We’ll go by in the morning.”

 

“Whatever.” Becky leaned her head against the glass. The chill feeling refreshing against her forehead.

 

Charlotte was honestly asking herself why she was even trying. If she hadn’t seen how much shit the redhead had to go through she might have not cared to try.

 

She had gotten too close despite trying to keep her at arm’s length. Charlotte couldn’t look away. Becky needed someone to be there for her and as much as she didn’t want to be that person, Charlotte knew that she was probably the only one who could. The thought of leaving Becky by herself didn’t feel right.

 

Charlotte needed a plan. Becky was spiralling and hopefully she could stop it before it went too far.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley’s professional clothing was fitting more snugly than she remembered. Though she supposed this was inevitable when one went on a week-long junk food bender. She didn’t usually dress like this save for the most important events, and never for a simple lunch meeting. But Alexa Bliss intimidated her slightly. AND she knew that if she dressed up she’d feel slightly more confident.

 

One of the last things Charlotte had told Bayley before she had left, was that Bayley NEEDED to leave the apartment at least once every day. Bayley had wanted to rebel against this but she had to concede the wisdom in the advice. The fact that she still had this meeting with Alexa on her calendar (though she’d completely forgotten about it in her recent turmoil) seemed like a good opportunity.

 

She still wasn’t sure what Alexa even wanted to talk to her about, which was adding to her unease. Illogical though it was, she doubted that she would able to be fully comfortable around the diminutive blonde anytime soon given the circumstances of their last meeting. Even now, when Alexa had no authority over any aspect of her life, Bayley still felt apprehensive about meeting with her.

 

“Relax, it’s just a lunch meeting,” Bayley told herself, that undermined any confidence she’d been trying to build by stiffening when she saw Alexa Bliss pull open the door to Layna’s, the coffee shop they were in, and then look around the dark interior. Her gaze fell on Bayley and she began making a beeline over to the table. Bayley could only describe the other woman’s progress as ‘heat seeking’, Alexa seemed to walk as though she’d charge right through a wall if it were to appear in her way.

 

“Ms. Martinez,” Alexa said as she reached the table.

 

“Alexa, hello,” Bayley said as she stood and smoothed the front of her shirt and offered Alexa her hand awkwardly. The tiny woman had a grip completely out of proportion to her stature and it was all Bayley could do not to wince while the contact lasted.

 

As they regained their seats Alexa said: “Thank you for seeing me, I would like to make a request of you.” She had a way of speaking, a tone and cadence, as though she issuing proclamations in a world where words were being strictly rationed. Had Bayley been an English teacher she might have simply recorded Alexa speaking as a perfect example of grammar and concision.

 

“Uh, OK...sure. What can I do for you?” Bayley asked, with a weak smile. An expression wasted as she was addressing the top of Alexa’s head.

 

“I see that you didn’t take my advice on filler words to heart, it would be of great benefit to you,” the blonde said as she opened the bag she’d been carrying. Bayley was taken aback by the statement. She was pretty sure it was rude, but it had flashed by so fast that it was hard to tell. She decided to ignore and press on.

 

“I apologize for expressing myself poorly Alexa, what can I do for you?” Bayley asked, speaking very deliberately. Alexa looked up at her at this and though she hadn’t removed her sunglasses or moved at all, Bayley suddenly got the sense that she was uncomfortable. Was that even possible?

 

“I was...hoping…” Alexa said, sounding like she was scanning her entire lexicon for each word “...that you might teach me how to handle people.” Had Alexa suggested that Bayley teach her how to breathe fire, Bayley would have been less caught off guard.

 

Catching herself before she said ‘uh’, Bayley asked: “Isn’t that...your job?’

 

Alexa pursed her lips before answering: “I work FOR people, I even direct them. And I am good- No, I am the best at that. But…handling them? Connecting with them if you will? Well...it pains me to admit but when people are done with my services they compliment me for my work but usually never speak to me again. I am admired, but not liked.”

 

“And you want to be...liked? I apologize Alexa but you’ve never given me the impression you care one way or another what other people think of you,” Bayley offered tentatively.

 

Alexa blew out a quick breath through her nose, making Bayley think she’d annoyed her. But then the blonde seemed to sag slightly, a slight dip in her shoulders that was dynamically expressive for the usually so rigid Alexa. “You are grasping my dilemma. When something interferes with my work then I will be ruthless in dealing with it-”

 

“I remember,” Bayley said, though she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as though it was helpful and could really only slow the conversation down.

 

Fortunately, Alexa seemed totally oblivious to any sensitivity Bayley might have on this subject as she simply said “Exactly” before pressing on. “It has been suggested to me more than once, not always kindly, that I do not empathize with people. That I am…’robotic’ as several people have said. And it has been driven home to me recently that...that I might be better at my job if I were more...more able to connect with others,” Alexa finished.

 

Bayley took a few moments to think. She couldn’t disagree with whoever had told Alexa these things, though she might not have phrased them that way. The woman was brusque to the point of rudeness, and had always seemed to be totally unaware of the fact. But what did she think Bayley could do about it. Bayley was going to ask this when Alexa resumed speaking, though she was talking now as though she simply musing.

 

“My...former fiance once told me this as well,” Alexa said quietly. This news hit Bayley with the force of a revelation from on high. She hadn’t really thought about it, but if she had she almost would have thought of Alexa as a being removed from intimate relationships. Or at least too robotic, to use her term, to make them work for very long.

 

Automatically, Bayley reached across the table and put her hand on top of Alexa’s. The other woman stiffened, as though she were about to pull away, but she didn’t. Though her posture made it obvious that she was uncomfortable. This, in turn, made Bayley uncertain and she terminated the contract quickly.

 

“I just..want to be clear then…” Bayley said, “...what is that you want me to do?”

 

Alexa looked silently down at the table for several moments before she seemed to nod and said:  “Whenever I work with Ms. Lynch...she...resists me every step of the way. In fact, she seems to take a perverse delight in doing the opposite of what I ask. Yet, I observed that she seemed to really…’like’ you despite not spending nearly as much time with you. I hoped that you might teach me how you did that.”

 

Bayley blinked, this response hadn’t made the situation clearer. “So…” she said tentatively “...You want me to tell you how to handle Becky?” She was so nonplussed with her current conversation that she forgot to feel anxious about discussing the Irish fighter.

 

Alexa shook her head, seemingly in minor frustration. Which was surprising in itself. “That’s only part of it...I’d like you to teach me how to make other people...like me,” her voice got so quiet at the end of her answer that it was as though she deeply ashamed of what she was saying.

 

“Oh…” Bayley said, now completely flummoxed. The last thing Alexa had ever seemed to care about before was if people liked her.

 

“Will you be able to help me?” Alexa asked, now sounding much more like her usual briskly efficient self. The sudden change in tone once again wrong-footed Bayley but she caught herself more quickly this time.

 

“I...I’m not sure Alexa, but...I’ll try,” Bayley offered. She really had no idea how she might go about doing this but she supposed it was something to keep her busy.

 

“Excellent,” Alexa said quickly and, in flash, she had her bag up on her lap and was taking out her laptop, a note pad, and two pens. She arranged these neatly in front of her before looking up at Bayley. Even with her glasses on it, she managed to project a strong air of impatience.

 

“Oh, like right now?” Bayley asked.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

“OK, uh...well…” Bayley said, trying to find her footing in this conversation “...We could maybe start with little things like how you approach people. What about-”

 

“A moment please,” Alexa cut her off with a raised index finger, there then followed the sound of blisteringly fast typing as the blonde wrote something out on her laptop. This went on for several seconds before Alexa looked up once more and said: “Proceed.”

 

Bayley blinked a few times and started again: “We could start with basic stuff like how you approach people? For example, we could-”

 

“But will we?” Alexa interrupted.

 

“What?”

 

“You said we ‘could’, but I was simply attempting to ascertain if we ‘will’ be doing so,” Alexa explained.

 

“Uh, yes,” Bayley said, some speck of irritation creeping into her gut.

 

“Very well, if it would be of benefit to you Ms. Martinez I could simply wait will you collect your thoughts. You seem somewhat out of sorts today,” Alexa said, brusquely.

 

“What? I mean-...out of sorts?”

 

“For example, you seem very unsure about your words. Your appearance is also somewhat disheveled. Your hair has greasy buildup, your eyes suggest you haven’t slept well for some time, and your nails have dirt under them. I thought perhaps a time to collect yourself might be of some benefit?” Alexa said this in a voice completely without malice, as though she were simply reading items off a list of trivialities.

 

Nonetheless, Bayley narrowed her eyes at this. “Let’s begin,” she said flatly. Alexa opened her mouth to say something but Bayley cut her dead by saying: “Tip number one, don’t open with pseudo bitchy observations about the other person...and removed your damn sunglasses.”

 

Alexa almost physically rocked back at this response, and it didn’t get much gentler for her from there. But Bayley had to admit, sometimes it was nice to be the rude one.

 

**Charlotte/Becky/Sasha**

 

Charlotte pulled into the underground parking for the press conference and threw the car into park. She got out without bothering to see if Becky followed. The sound of the passenger door slowly opening was enough.

 

They walked to the elevator. Charlotte in the lead as Becky followed a few steps back. The elevator ride as quiet as the car ride over had been.

 

Charlotte left the tiny metal prison first. Her long legs keeping a significant distance with the woman behind her.

 

She found Shane McMahon in a rare moment of privacy and offered him a handshake. They had spoken many times but the facade of professionalism helped right now.

 

Becky stood idly behind them with hands dug deep in her pockets. The oversized sunglasses she still wore made her look a little ridiculous in Charlotte’s eyes but she understood why the redhead wore them.

 

After she and the McMahon exchanged quick pleasantries Charlotte walked to the side of the area away from prying ears. The sound of footsteps her only indication that Becky was following.

 

“Becky.” Charlotte waited till she knew Becky was listening. “Are you ready to do this?”

 

“I’ve got it.”

 

Charlotte wasn’t convinced. As good as Becky was at hiding her hangover she knew that the Irish woman couldn’t be feeling good. At this point she was just hoping to get through this presser. She looked over Becky’s shoulder and saw a bit of reinforcements in Bobby, Liv and Ruby. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with this withdrawn version of Becky by herself anymore.

 

If she had thought that the normal Becky with her crass jokes and in your face attitude was annoying than what did it say if she actually missed it right now?

 

“If you’re sure.”

 

“I’ve got it.”

 

Charlotte wanted to a do a lot of things right now but none of them in front of an audience at such a public place. They walked back over to the rest of the team and Charlotte let it go for now.  

 

With the press conference ready to begin soon Shane came over to speak to her and Becky about the upcoming event since Sasha and her team hadn’t shown up yet. Although, Becky didn’t even pretend to listen. Physically turning away from the conversation. Her eyes unable to turn away from following the newest arrival behind the mirrored lenses.

 

Sasha was staring blankly out the window of the car Teddy had chartered for her, her mind a million miles from her current task. Part of her was thinking about her last time in Boston, all that had happened, and how it was continuing to affect her life. But a larger part of her was consumed in nerves. Not something that happened often to Sasha Banks.

 

Since officially sending her message off to Bayley, Sasha had been like a nervous teenager hoping to get a call back from her crush. She’d checked her phone for a response seemingly every time she picked it up, still nothing. She’d had to use great violence on herself to not send a follow-up message or messages. She’d even been halfway through sending a veritable greenhouse worth of flowers to Bayley before she’d managed to stop herself.

 

Given her druthers, Sasha would be curled up at home doing the same thing now. Waiting to see if she would be forgiven. No, that wasn’t fair, waiting to see if the bridge really was burnt. Or if, by some miracle, a connection (however tenuous) remained.

 

What she would not have chosen to be doing was preparing for another presser as part of the media tour leading up to her fight with Becky Lynch. But if she hadn’t been, then she wouldn’t have been in Boston at all. Sighing softly she closed her eyes and made herself take a deep breath. She needed to get a grip, IF Bayley even wanted to get back to her she would no doubt take her time. Sasha herself had sat on her video for some time before sending it.

 

But knowing and acknowledging this consciously was one thing. Her spirit still rebelled against having to wait. She wanted closure one way or the other.

 

But that was out of her hands.

 

Once the car reached the venue it pulled around back and came to a stop in the loading area. Sasha got out, careful to remember to thank the driver, and then let Teddy lead her into the building.

 

“You remember what we talked about?” Teddy asked her.

 

“From ten minutes ago? Yes!” Sasha said harshly. She stopped then and took another deep breath. Part of her anxiety over Bayley had manifested in an inability to sleep which, combined with Meng’s brutal schedule, had left her feeling very tired. “I’m sorry Teddy, I’m just...tired,” she said when she spoke again.

 

Teddy Long had known Sasha for a very long time now. He’d signed the inexperienced young fighter out of Boston based on nothing but a hunch about her potential. And he’d been rewarded beyond his wildest dreams, though he’d also had to deal with headaches that he never could have imagined. He’d dealt with the young and almost timid girl from Boston, the growing confidence of Sasha’s early pro days, and the worst of the Boss. Yet he still wasn’t quite sure how to deal with this new ‘be better’ Sasha.

 

For one thing, he could count on one hand how many sincere apologies he’d gotten from the woman before this. Not that it had ever bothered him. Teddy knew more about Sasha Banks than almost anyone else and he knew that, at her core, she wasn’t a bad person. But that core could be buried very deeply at times. Anything Sasha did to unearth it would usually have had his full support.

 

Which made what he was going to tell her even more unfortunate.

 

“Listen playa…” he said in a tired voice “...I want you to be better. I’m so proud that you are trying to be. But you know that the fight game isn’t all about fighting. It’s showtime and the people out there want to see the Boss. Just...wear the mask but don’t forget who you are OK?”

 

Sasha swallowed at her manager's advice. She heard it, she understood, and she was scared of it. Though she would never have vocalized the comparison, she felt that she was in the same boat as Becky. Just as the Irish fighter couldn’t have ‘just one drink’ Sasha was worried that if she put her mask back on, it would never come off.

 

She was still lost in these thoughts when she finally looked up and found herself in a backstage area. She could hear the murmur of several dozen assembled people coming from the other side of a large curtain. Licking her lips she looked around again and noticed a small group of people nearby.

 

Becky Lynch was standing with Bobby Lashley, Charlotte Flair, and a few other people. Flair was talking with Shane McMahon who, as usual, was all urbanity. The man was a total chameleon and absolutely mercenary. She knew he’d never hold a grudge if he thought it would cost him money. But by the same token he’d stab his oldest friend in the back for a dime. She had no doubt that he’d be all smiles when she approached.

 

Fortunately, Teddy moved first. Stepping up to the group he said: “Mr. McMahon, how ya livin playa? And you must be the famous Charlotte Flair, it’s a real pleasure ma’am.” Sasha knew that her manager could charm a steak away from a lion if he so chose and was interested to see what effect it might have on Flair.

 

Charlotte quickly analyzed the man. She wasn’t much in the mood for his attempts at charm after playing babysitter- once again- to a drunk Becky Lynch and being awake till nearly dawn. “Theodore Long. I’m sure it is for you.” Holding out her hand with a steely gaze. Choosing to forgo returning his affectation and respond with the opposite.

 

Teddy never showed offense, at least not in public. The harshest insults were always met with the most winning smiles. And the one he gave Charlotte now could have landed a plane. “It really is, let's hope we all come out of this one wealthier and happier yeah?” Not waiting for a response he looked over Charlotte’s shoulder toward Bobby and asked: “What up big man?”

 

Bobby kept his eyes on Teddy. “Same old, same old.” He wasn’t too proud to admit the way Sasha had dismissed him still bothered him. Nor would he deny a large level of annoyance and disappointment in Teddy and the other’s who hadn’t said anything even though they all saw what he had seen.

 

Becky still hadn’t taken her eyes off Sasha since she had entered. It was nice to have an exterior target to distract her mind from herself and the headache that still lingered. She was glad the sunglasses helped her survey the other woman stealthily. There was a certain amount of anxious energy that she could see in Sasha. But she wasn’t anxious about the press conference. It was something else.

 

She finally broke her stare and looked away. “When are we going on Shane?” Becky curtly asked.

 

Shane made a show of looking down at his flashy, far more expensive than it needed to be, watch. “You’re on in ten. Same as normal. You come out-”

“First. Yep. Then she comes out. Then we answer some questions.” Becky interrupted. “I’ve got it.” Going right back to pretending to ignore the conversation.

 

“Champ? Any questions?” Shane asked Sasha, ignoring Becky’s surliness.

 

“Hmm? Oh...uh no,” Sasha answered quickly. She hadn’t really been listening, her mind elsewhere.

 

“Where do you want us then playa?” Teddy asked the commissioner.

 

“Your seats are marked if you want to be in the audience otherwise wherever you like back here,” McMahon answered before he hurried away. Sasha imagined that she could hear the cash register going off in his head.

 

“I’m going to see you in a bit, going to go wait for Meng to arrive,” Teddy told her before he walked away.

 

Charlotte turned to Becky with her arms crossed. “See you after.”

 

“Cool.”

  
Ruby saw Charlotte’s patience with the redheads mood running out and quickly wrapped one arm around the taller blonde’s shoulders and the other around her much tinier blonde girlfriend. “We should get moving before we get in the way. Bye Becky. Don’t say anything too stupid.” She teased, hoping to get any reaction out of the woman who had become a pretty good friend to her in the gym.

 

“...Mmmhmm.”

 

The heavily tattooed fighter knew something was up but she also knew Becky wouldn’t say anything more right now. “Let’s go girls.” Leading the two blondes away as Bobby followed along behind. His heavy gaze lingering on both champion and challenger before finally moving out of their sight.

 

This left Sasha alone with Becky in an atmosphere that might generously be described as ‘tense’. It was more like being told to hold a match in a gunpowder store. ‘Be better’ Sasha reminded herself as she cleared her throat.

 

“I’m sorry for what happened at the last one,” she told Becky.

 

Becky kept herself turned away from Sasha. Refusing to even look at her. She remembered when she had implied Sasha was a horrible friend to Bayley late night at the gym prior to Ric’s funeral. It was darkly funny and she actually chuckled under her breath at how poorly her words had aged. “Cool. Apology accepted… It’s cute. It really is. Your little act.”

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes: “Act?”

 

Becky finally turned to look at Sasha but didn’t take off the sunglasses. She shrugged nonchalantly, her face unnaturally calm. “The whole being a better person thing. I’m not tryin’ to be mean. Just calling it like I see it.” A half smile with no joy creeping onto her face. Might as well start her own act.  

 

Sasha was tired, she’d been nervous the whole night, and now she was here more or less against her will. This was the sort of thing that would have irritated her on her best day, and it definitely slipped right under her guard now. Still, she managed to reign herself in and say: “I deserve that.” Though this was all she could manage.

 

“Don’t worry. Maybe you can act long enough to convince yourself its real. Isn’t that what being a good person is anyway?” The redhead wasn’t trying to be mean. She saw herself in Sasha. Normally it would annoy her but after she was confronted with the rotten core beneath she felt sorry for the other woman. “But what the hell do I know.” Maybe she was a little bitter that Sasha was still trying to be a better person when she had so obviously failed. Yet another thing Sasha was beating her at.

 

Sasha, for one of the first times ever, had no answer to a hostile remark. In fact, she was disturbed by just how accurately Becky had placed her knife. Sasha had been feeling that her ‘be better’ phase was...mechanical, unnatural. Bayley had always seemed to light up rooms and connect with people without any apparent effort, Sasha wasn’t good at it even with maximum effort.

 

Looking down she took a half step away from Becky and just waited, lost in a gloomy reverie. She was more than thankful when she heard the familiar opening notes of Becky’s music begin to play. She didn’t look up as the Irish woman left, just rubbed at her eyes and wished that she could just go to bed.

 

Becky made her way onstage and walked directly to her chair. No waving, no playing to the crowd. She hadn’t even acknowledged Shane. Plopping herself down in the chair and throwing her feet up onto the table. Leaning back and getting as comfortable as she possibly could. Hangover gathering a second wind of annoyance at the bright lights and pulsing bass from the music being pumped in.

 

She was grateful when the music stopped. Only for Sasha to be introduced and the cycle to continue.

 

It was funny really. Early in her career, the drum opening of ‘Satisfaction’ by Eve had been one of Sasha’s favorite sounds in the world. She’d used the song as her walkout for her whole career and yet now, hearing it, she felt like a stranger in someone else’s home. But she was here to do a job, so she would try.

 

“Mask on,” she told herself.

 

As she walked out onto the stage she did her best to smile, though it felt painfully forced to her. She gave limp half-hearted waves to the crowd as she walked but made sure to be sitting quickly. As the music faded she stared out at the sea of faces in front of her and suddenly felt very intimidated...or maybe ‘inadequate’ was the word. None of them were here for her.

 

“Alright! Now that we got both of the ladies out here, why don’t we get started…” Shane said from behind them “...Zach, I believe you’re going first today?”

 

Zach Ryder stood up and asked: “Sasha, Becky, the London press conference you did has been getting…’mixed’ reviews. Do you two have any comments to offer on the reaction you’re both getting? Sasha, maybe an update on how trying to be a better person is going? Becky, a sobriety update?”

 

Sasha had to work not to roll her eyes at this. “Really? Not a question about the fight, we’re opening with that?” This response slipped out of her mouth almost before she was aware of what she was saying and she kicked herself inwardly as soon as she'd said it. Pausing she added: “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you Zach but I’d really like to just talk about the fight.”

 

Becky pulled out her phone and placed it in her lap out of sight. “I don’t care how people reacted. And go fuck yourself. My business is my business. Unlike Sasha, I’ll just be honest and say I’m not sorry. Next question.”

 

“Carlos Cabrera _con ESPN deportes._ With this being the such a large press tour do either of you worry about this affecting your actual preparation for the fight?”

 

The redhead didn’t bother looking up. “Nope.” She looked down at the words she had meticulously typed out on her phone but then quickly deleted it all.

 

Sasha shot a look over at Becky, not exactly surprised but more annoyed. Becky was obviously past caring but that would just make her part that much harder. Forcing another plastic smile she said: “No, Carlos, I don’t think so, I’ve done a lot of these.”

 

The assembled reporters were looking at each other and muttering now. It was clear what they were thinking. If the last press conference had been a let down due to its lack of excitement, this one wasn’t starting much better with both fighters being so non-communicative. This impression was strengthened over the next fifteen minutes as both fighters continued to respond to, but not answer, all questions. Becky, by ostentatiously barely paying attention and Sasha by hiding behind athlete speak.

 

“Jonathan Coachman, TMZ, Sasha could you give us a comment on the recent interview given by-”

 

“NO…” Sasha barked, causing even Becky to look up. She collected herself and said: “I have no comments on that interview, I release my response, and I would REALLY appreciate some questions about the fight please.” Her voice was pleasant as she said this but as taut as a drum.

 

Becky leaned towards her mic. “I’ve got a question actually. Could you please not be so loud when answering dumb questions? Thanks. That was all.”

 

Sasha clenched her fists under the table as someone else spoke up. “Becky, some reports are saying you went AWOL after the card in NYC. Can you confirm or deny that?” a reporter called from the back.

 

Becky deleted the sentence she had typed out. Her finger nearly cracking the screen with the force she pressed on it. “Who said that? Huh? What I do on my time is my business. Holy FUCK! You’re making me agree with cotton candy head. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE... ask about the fight.”

 

A somewhat brave soul decided to speak up but didn’t bother standing. “This is for both women. How do you see the fight ending?”

 

“How do you think? Her little peanut head bouncing off the canvas. If she’s lucky that will be the end of it. Otherwise, I’m going to repay the favor and break somethin’ of hers.” Becky said with a desperate fiery conviction. She had to beat Sasha this time. The thought of another loss was worse than death. She had come out here to try and play Shane’s game and be the old Becky Lynch again but it was far easier than she had hoped to fall back into it.

 

Some of the old fire awoke inside Sasha as she leaned forward to say: “Do you remember what happened last time?” When the reporter didn’t answer, obviously thinking this had been rhetorical, she repeated herself.

 

“Yes?”

 

“There you go,” Sasha said as she leaned back in her chair.

 

“You fookin wish. Yer so stupid ya wouldn’t even know your own hair color. If you actually think that I feel sorry for you. This will be an easier fight than I thought.” Becky laughed joylessly and her feet left the table to meet the ground. “Keep my belt warm will ya.”

 

The fire rose higher, as Sasha felt the mood in the room shift to one of eager anticipation. It seemed that Becky was ready to give the crowd what they wanted. She also reminded herself that she needed to ‘wear the mask’. But how did that square with trying to be someone worthy of Bayley?

 

“Oh yeah? Well, scoreboard. Next question?” was all she ended up saying as she looked around the room, ostentatiously ignoring Becky.

 

The words didn’t bother Becky. Being ignored did. She leapt to her feet and moved quickly across the dais and used her foot to violently nudge the table in front of Sasha. The generic metal legs of the folding table scraping across the stage and shaking the shiny title that had been sitting on the table before her opponent.

 

Shane gave her a faux horrified look and held an arm out in front of the redhead to stop her from going further.

 

The fire was now an inferno and the boss like Kronos locked in Tartarus, fighting to escape. She raged to be released but Sasha still hadn’t given up hope. Not looking up at Becky she said: “Sit down ‘champ’, wouldn’t want to strain that knee again.” Sasha felt this was a fair concession to Teddy, even though she knew if she didn’t leave the situation soon things would escalate.

 

Becky grinned. This was better than feeling sorry for herself. She felt alive and reinvigorated with all the eyes on her. “Don’t you worry bout me. I’ll find a sweet little lass to rub it and make it all better. You still have Zelina’s number? It’d be much appreciated.”

 

Sasha’s fists were clenched so tight she thought she might sprain a finger. Looking slowly down at the table she nodded her head twice before standing slowly. She was careful on this point because she didn’t want to startle Becky into attacking her. When she was fully upright she turned slowly to gaze into the Irish woman’s leering face.

 

So many ideas flashed into her mind, almost all of them destructive. She had tried SO HARD to extend an olive branch to Lynch, they could have gotten through this together. But when someone slaps your hand away, what are you supposed to do? Just keep offering it like a chump? No, she was sick of this game.

 

Something inside Sasha Banks gave way.

 

Narrowing her eyes Sasha said: “Sure...I do, might be nice to actually know the name of the person you’re sleeping with for once huh? Maybe you could set the mood with a drink...or ten.” As she said this she picked her title up off the table in front of her and began stepping backward. As she went she raised it high over her head, never breaking eye contact with Becky.

 

“No more questions,” she called as she reached the curtain before turning to vanish through it.

 

“Ahh, there she goes. Runnin’ away and hidin’.” Becky tried to goad Sasha back out. She wasn’t ready to go back. At least out here, she could pretend she didn’t hate herself. It didn’t seem like it was in the cards though so she just turned back to the crowd of press. “How’s that for a press conference you little twats.” Giving a kiss to her middle fingers before flipping both to the audience. “Wish I could say you’ve been a wonderful audience but I’m trying to be a better person and not lie.” Becky mockingly added. Waving her hand in front of her in a broad pantomime of Sasha’s movement that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than disrespect.

 

Sasha was almost at the stage exit when Meng caught her, his imposing bulk between her and the door. “You proud of yourself out there?” he asked in an expressionless voice.

 

All Sasha said was “let’s get out of here.” But on a deep level, something had broken as she’d tried to sit endure Becky’s taunts. Something that now told her that god damn right she was proud, and there would be more to come. If this was what the world did to people who tried to be better maybe she was just a bad person.

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

She hadn’t spoken when Sasha had blown past her. She wasn’t even sure if the fighter had noticed her waiting just behind the curtain. Charlotte looked at it as a blessing in disguise. Her mind was too focused on what she had just heard and seen on stage. Even now she could hear the redhead was still soaking in the adulation of the fans who had come to see a spectacle and taunting the media simultaneously.

 

Whatever she had expected from this press conference, this certainly wasn’t it. If she had half a mind and thought Sasha would listen she would apologize on Becky’s behalf. Charlotte couldn’t be sure from her outside view but Sasha seemed sincere in her dramatic change in attitude.

 

When the Irish woman finally came off stage Sasha was long gone and Charlotte stood resolute. Prepared to try and talk sense into a woman that wouldn’t want to hear it.

 

The words in her mouth died before they came out. A metamorphosis occurred as the curtain billowed close behind Becky. Gone was the brash, confident woman who seemed eerily at home in front of the cameras and lights and the sullen, withdrawn Becky emerged.

 

“Can we go?”

 

Charlotte had been prepared to speak with the woman she saw on stage but was thrown for a loop with the change. “What was that out there?”

 

Becky only shrugged and shoved her hands deep in her pockets. Even with the mirrored sunglass lenses, Charlotte could tell she was just looking at the ground. “Shane said he wanted ‘The Man’. I gave it to him.”

 

“What did you want?”

 

Becky didn’t care what she wanted anymore. She wanted to not hate herself but that wasn’t possible. She wanted Bayley to be happy but she had forfeited her say in that. She wanted Charlotte to not care so she could lament everything she lost in peace. “Doesn’t matter.”

 

“Do you really think that?” Charlotte questioned.

 

“I know it.” The answer was spoken with such certainty that the blonde frowned. She still wanted to be upset on Bayley’s behalf but couldn’t help feeling a shard of that anger chip away. “Can we just leave already. I should go train.”

 

“Are you sure you feel up for it? You were throwing up in my bathroom just six hours ago?”

 

“I’ve got it.”

 

Charlotte didn’t know how to feel anymore but knew that Becky was obviously more affected by what she had done than she let on. “Do you?”

 

Becky didn’t bother answering.

 

**Bayley**

 

It was hard to say just how Bayley was feeling as she finished reading the text message.

 

_...I can't ever make up for what I said or apologize enough. But please don't shut out Charlotte or the people that actually care about you. Take care of yourself._

 

_P.S. don't blame yourself. Es mi culpa._

 

Just a day or so earlier she would have been reduced to a wreck again by it, just hearing from Becky would have been enough. After Charlotte had arrived and they’d had their talk, she guessed she would have been angry. Now, after all that and her time with Alexa she wasn’t sure. Not sure at all.

 

In the past, she knew she would have instantly given in to her impulse to call Becky and try to make things right. Address them now and put them in the past so they could move forward as friends. And this impulse was still powerfully present, but she wasn’t acting on it. For possibly the first time in her adult life, she was wondering if she’d done so too often.

 

Bayley had always been the peacemaker, always the diplomat. She smoothed over conflicts and showered the people around her in love. Not that either of these things was at all bad in itself, but Bayley was realizing that she may have gone too far. As she’d put it to Charlotte, ‘you kick me and I apologize for being kicked’.

 

Did she really even WANT Becky Lynch back in her life? No, that was the wrong question. She desperately wanted her friend back, but SHOULD she. Becky’s apology had been everything you might hope for from such a text and Bayley truly believed the fighter was sorry. But, drunk or not, Becky’s message meant that on some level she felt those things about Bayley. Could they continue on knowing that?

 

Bayley longed for the time when the answer would have been an easy ‘yes of course’.

 

As if that wasn’t enough to deal with she had a second message to deal with. Pulling her laptop toward her she looked at the email she’d received. A message from someone she’d thought she’d probably never speak to again. There was no body text and no subject, and it had taken all of her strength of character to play the video attached to the message.

 

Bayley couldn’t help her breath catching as a player opened on her screen. The scene showed a bed and a person sitting on it. A person whose features were seared not only into Bayley’s memory but her heart and soul. The woman had the most striking eyes, the same eyes that Bayley had lost herself in so many times. Crowning all was the familiar mane of magenta hair.

 

_“Hi, Bay…” said the Sasha Banks in the video “...It’s been a long time. I...I hope you’re doing good…”_

 

Bayley sat quietly as she watched the video, and then watched it again, then a third time. Each time she did, she kept expecting to be bowled over by a wave of emotions. She waited...but it never came. Her insides were roiling but it was as though she were floating above it now. She couldn’t deny her longing for the woman in the video. But it turned out she was in control of it.

 

Bayley sat silently staring straight ahead for a very long time. She would occasionally look down at her phone and then over to her laptop, but she’d always end up staring at the wall again. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be feeling, maybe she was approaching some sort of overload point. But what she knew one thing beyond anything else at the moment, one fixed certainty that she could cling to.

 

She had nothing to say to either of them.

 

So that night, as Sasha and Becky both checked their phones, they finally got a reply to their messages, of sorts. As both women checked their phones they saw one word.

 

Seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, if you'll forgive the unseemly lack of modesty for a moment I'm going to go ahead and say: Go us!
> 
> Goose and I spent all last week at Mania, and yet we still got a chapter out in less than two weeks. Of course, we wouldn't be doing that if it wasn't for you fine humans, so really it was a team effort all around!
> 
> ...GO US!
> 
> Now, some exciting news before we get to today's chapter.
> 
> For some time now Goose and I have been discussing what will happen when this amazing ride we've all been on comes to an end. The only answer we could arrive at was that it would be a crying shame to just walk away after Perseverance takes its final bow. Then my esteemed and luminously talented co-writer hit on the amazing idea of a Four Horsewomen Western, and thus "Grit' was born. 
> 
> Now, never fear, Perseverance will continue to get top billing and most of my attention at least (and I assume for Goose as well). But over the next few weeks we'll be introducing you all to this new world we've created in "Grit" and we sincerely hope you'll take it into your heart with the same amazing response you've given Perseverance. This week, we introduce you to the infamous outlaw Sasha Banks as she starts a new phase of her life. 
> 
> You'll find the chapter here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448562
> 
> As always, if you like it then put a bookmark on it!
> 
> Now, onto today's chapter!
> 
> Things are ROUGH in the world of Perseverance huh? God, it's almost like the two jackasses who write this story just HATE our girls? Someone should do something...
> 
> Becky seems to be in the unenviable position of almost running in place. Every time something goes well in one aspect of her life, another seems to go to shit. But what's worse is that now she seems to be worried that she's not even worth the effort. Who would have thought at one point that Charlotte would be the stabilizing figure among the Horsewomen? She really has come a very long way, though she also has a long way to go, doesn't she? Sasha is, as usual, in a similar boat to Becky, though both would never admit this truth. She's being forced to confront the fact that the world might not want her to 'be better'. And OMG...my poor Bayley. What is there to say really? I demand that all of you protect her and shower her in hugs!
> 
> Did what happened at the end of the press conference presage things to come? Or was it merely a fluke? Will Charlotte be able to 'save' Bayley while keeping the rest of her life on track? Can Sasha possibly stick to her new goal when it seems the whole world wants her to fail? Will Bayley ever be the same? Would you watch the Bachelorette: Clex Edition?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14: Singin' in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The press tour continues to add stress to everyone's lives until it all comes to a head in the city of Angels. Brace yourselves, it's a bumpy ride.

**Bayley**

 

“Well, well, look who it is. Feeling better?” AJ styles asked as he looked up from his desk.

 

Bayley, feeling more than a little sheepish, nodded as she closed the door and move toward one of the chairs. When Styles nodded her down into it she perched on the very edge of the seat, as though she thought she might spring up at any moment. Which, was a distinct possibility.

 

As a result of Charlotte’s intervention and her subsequent meeting with Alexa Bliss, Bayley was feeling...not ‘better’ but perhaps ‘motivated’. She was also more than a little embarrassed with herself over just how steep her spiral had become and how quickly. The idea that she’d been seriously thinking about...but no, she wouldn’t let herself do it now. She needed to grow up.

 

“Thanks for seeing me,” was all she managed to murmur when Styles didn’t break the silence.

 

“Well, it seems like we’re doomed to repeat the same meeting over and over. I wanted you to come and explain why I shouldn’t drop you as a writer,” Styles said flatly.

 

“I…” Bayley started and then trailed off. She had no good answer, dropping her was the right move for him. Bayley was only a stringer and she’d just shown that she wasn’t even an entirely reliable one. “I don’t have a good answer for you Mr. Styles, I just want to say I’m sorry-” Bayley started to say resignedly until she gave a small squeak as she jumped in her seat.

 

Styles had hammered both fists down on his desk as she snapped: “NO! Don’t do that!”

 

“Do what?” Bayley asked, startled.

 

“Don’t come in here all ‘woe is me, just get it over with’ on me. TALK to me Martinez, help me understand what the hell was or is going on!” Styles barked.

 

Bayley was totally taken aback by this reaction but she managed to say: “I don’t...I don’t think I can.”

 

Styles stood quickly and moved around his desk so he could pace as he spoke: “You drop off the face of the Earth and completely blow off he article I gave you on Jimmy Uso. Then you stop returning calls. Suddenly Charlotte Flair of all people shows up asking where you are. God damn it Martinez this is clearly bigger than MMA writing.”

 

Something in this tirade finally provoked some fire in Bayley as she asked: “Why do you care?”

 

“Fuck if I know!...” Styles shot right back, cowing Bayley instantly “...If I didn’t give a shit I’d have already fired you and forgotten your name before you made the door.”

 

“So why don’t you?”

 

“Because…” Styles answered, now speaking in much quieter and gentler tone “...I don’t WANT to. You’re damned good at this stuff Martinez, you know that and don’t pretend you don’t. But there are a lot of good writers in the world. But you’re one of the only ones I know in this field that manages to be good and yet NOT burn everyone they run into. You get the facts, you report the stories, and yet no one I’ve spoken has a bad thing to say about you. Do you even understand how rare that is in ANY kind of journalism?”

 

Bayley had no answer for this, mostly because it wasn’t something she’d thought she’d be hearing. But it seemed Styles didn’t want a direct answer.

 

“So PLEASE tell me what’s going on, because I don’t want to have to fire my most talented writer and a good person to boot,” Styles finished as he turned on his feet to glare at Bayley.

 

“I...I really can’t tell you most of it…It involves some stuff that isn’t mine alone to share...” Bayley offered hesitantly.

 

“Then tell me what you can.” Styles said this as he regained his original seat and looked directly into Bayley’s eyes.

 

So Bayley did.

 

When she’d finished speaking, Styles was silent for awhile as he regarded her with a searching stare. In the end it seemed he decided he didn’t have anything to say to the story at all. Instead he said: “Look, Martinez, when I offered to send you the presser I was doing you a favor. You know that. I’ve got other writers, writers actually on the payroll, who would have killed for that opportunity. It was my credibility on the line as much as yours.”

 

“I’m sorry-” Bayley started to say, but she was cut off.

 

“DO NOT start with that shit again. Just listen!” Styles told her coolly. When Bayley just nodded he went on saying: “So I’m telling you this right now, because I respect you. Pull another vanishing act and I’ll have you out on your ass so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

 

Bayley nodded. There wasn’t really anything to say. She was honestly surprised that she wasn’t being fired. But that surprise was as nothing to the shock that followed it.

 

“Now…” Styles said as he looked down at some paper on his desk “...Go home, get packed. If you want to keep your name on ESPN MMA then you’ll be in Boston by the end of the week. Your friend Flair is formally announcing the Toni Storm signing and you’ve got the most local experience there.” He paused here to hand Bayley a sheet before adding: “And for that shit over the last week or so ESPN is NOT paying for the trip.”

 

Bayley sighed but nodded. She didn’t HAVE to go of course, but it would mean the end of her relationship with ESPN. And she knew that, in the long run, it would be a bad play to throw that away. She could take a cheap flight, and maybe even find a cheap place to stay…

 

But it seemed Styles wasn’t done speaking. “And when you get back, if I like what you give us, I may send you to the next leg of the Banks-Lynch press tour here in LA.”

 

Bayley was surprised enough to look this gift horse in the mouth and ask: “Really?”

 

“You’re still my best, I’ll keep the other writers fed. Besides, you saw how Miami and Chicago went, I need someone who can play this right there,” Styles explained.

 

“AND…” Bayley suggested “...You know I have had a direct relationship with one of the fighters.” She said this mildly, though she wasn’t sure if she had that relationship any longer.

 

“And that,” Styles acknowledged.

 

“Well, I’m going to get home and start packing the,” Bayley said as she stood. She shook Styles’ hand but he didn’t release hers right away.

 

“VERY thin ice, Martinez. Don’t give me a reason,” he warned before he let go of her hand and sat back down.

 

**Charlotte**

 

“You know I can’t condone you striking Ms. Lynch. I can sympathize with your feelings but reacting with violence will just make matters worse.”

 

Charlotte leaned her head further into her hand. “I know. I know. She didn’t even look upset though! I had just seen Bayley struggling and then here I see Becky acting like she hadn’t said such horrible things and I just couldn’t take it.”

 

Molly listened and jotted a few quick notes down. “But eventually you did find out she apparently didn’t recall leaving the message. Correct?”

 

“Yes, but-”

 

“So one could accurately say that you reacted before having all the facts. Yes?”

 

“Yes, but-”

 

“And you’ve admitted some of the regretful things you’ve said to Ms. Lynch in the past.”

 

“I did, but-”

 

“Does it bother you that she never tried to hit you or get some form of retaliation after those events?”

 

Charlotte was momentarily stunned into silence. “I uhh… I don’t know.”

 

Molly watched the blonde as she sat deep in thought. Her eyes wandering over to check the clock. “We only have a couple minutes left Charlotte. If you’d like we can revisit this next session.”

 

“Thanks Molly. I’m just not sure how I feel. A part of me wishes she had.”

 

“You know we’ve been talking about Becky a lot recently…”

 

“Well yeah. She’s kind of my responsibility now. I can’t let her down but I feel like she’s just slipping away and I’m not helping.”

 

“Why is she your responsibility? Don’t you have a large staff to help? As the owner of the gym shouldn’t you be more focused on the business side of things and less on her?”

 

Charlotte felt defensive and sat up straighter. “She’s my fighter. I should be there for her.”

 

“Yet you punched her for hurting a mutual friend of yours.”

 

Charlotte felt like she’d just been punched. “I-... I know it was wrong of me to do that.”

 

“But you did it anyway. Why did it bother you so much?”

 

“I don’t know. It just did. Becky has a way of getting under my skin even when she’s not trying.”

 

Molly was quiet for a moment. Her face scrunched up in concentration as she debated asking the next question. “Have you ever given thought to why she is able to, as you say, get under your skin?”

 

“Because she just does. As soon as she comes in a room I notice her, and she always goes out of her way to mess with me.”

 

“Charlotte… How did you feel when Ms. Martinez told you about her and Becky’s falling out and explained the circumstances?”

 

“What do you want me to say? I was annoyed, mortified, sad-”

 

“Jealous?” Molly added.

 

Charlotte nearly brushed off the comment before something made her stop and think.

 

“Are you still somewhat jealous of Becky pursuing your friend over you? Or am I reading this incorrectly?”

 

The blonde didn’t have an answer. Not one she cared to admit yet.

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

“Don’t worry Toni. You’ll fit in just fine.”

 

“Thanks for this Ms. Flair.” Toni Storm spoke in her New Zealand accent. Readjusting the gym bag over her shoulder as she held the door open. “I’m just freakin’ about a bit. First day jitters an’ all.”

 

Charlotte stepped through and smiled at the fighter’s politeness. It felt refreshingly odd after so much time around Becky. “I’ve told you to call me Charlotte. Bobby and Ruby are excited to work with you. They’ll show you the ropes. You ready to jump right in?”

 

“I’d be stupid to say no.” Toni answered with a bright smile as they walked further into the main gym. “Thanks again Charlotte.” She said before giving the taller blonde a friendly fist bump to her shoulder, “You’ve been awesome.”

 

Charlotte blushed at the unexpected compliment and smiled back at the New Zealander. “Just doing my job. I’d have been stupid to not have tried bringing you in.”

 

Toni was just about to respond when a boisterous Irish accent boomed out from the ring. “Who’s the newbie?”

 

Becky knew damn well exactly who the young blonde was. She knew Toni Storm by reputation and had seen some of her fights from the local circuits in Australia and New Zealand. Some had even said that she was a future title contender. A talented young fighter that needed time to round out her game but had great potential if she could combine her impressive striking skills with a more rounded ground game.

 

Charlotte’s good mood took a quick dive at Becky’s pettiness. She had told the redhead a week ago that Storm would be in today. “Becky, be nice.” A gentle warning that the Irish woman appeared to heed. Her hands held high like she was proclaiming her innocence. “Toni meet Becky. Becky meet Toni.”

 

The two exchanged a quick and business like hello but Becky continued to stare in their direction. Only when Bobby introduced himself to Toni and the new fighter walked away from Charlotte’s side did Becky turn around and go back to shadowboxing in the ring.

 

After a quick visit to the locker room and a change of clothes Toni stepped out into the gym ready to get into the actual training.

 

Bobby had been working back in the ring with Becky on defending against takedowns. Even though Sasha wasn’t well known for taking the fight to the ground Lashley’s philosophy was to be ready for anything. The unexpected move has a much higher chance of success so Bobby made sure to keep Becky on her toes.

 

When the hulking man saw Toni come out he called a stop to his work with Becky and walked towards her.

 

“Alright. Now that you’re ready we can get started.”

 

“I’m ready for anything you got.” Toni stated confidently. Paying no mind Becky quietly snorting at her words. “Let’s have some fun.”

 

The next hour was anything but fun.

 

At this point in Becky’s training Bobby was focusing on improving her cardio. She hadn’t been in bad shape before but the trainer seemed intent on making her lungs burst like an overinflated balloon almost everyday.

 

 _“Need to be ready for anything. If you can make it through these then you can trust yourself to not gas out in the fight no matter how fast paced it is. Do you want to get tired before Sasha? It doesn’t matter who the better fighter is if one of them is dead tired and the other isn’t.”_ He had said to her the first time she complained about the cardio heavy training.

 

Every sprint. Every workout. Every single moment of training was a competition for Becky.

 

She didn’t want to get shown up by the younger fighter even if she’d told Charlotte she was totally fine with bringing her on.

 

Toni had figured out what Becky was doing fast and to her credit she took it as a challenge. Competing to be a millisecond faster; get one more rep out in the timeframe and keep up with the former champion.

 

Bobby called for a break walked off to take a call. Leaving the two women virtually alone. The only other people in the gym were off doing their own thing.

 

“You’re good.”

 

The younger blonde almost blushed at the unexpected compliment. Toni had looked up to Becky when she just started in fighting. An example of the heights that were possible to reach and a goal to try and exceed someday. “Thanks. Not so bad yourself.”

 

No more words were exchanged. Both women separating to go cool off a bit and rehydrate until Bobby returned.

 

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly. All things considered Bobby had expected Becky to make more of a huff about the newcomer. She had been surly for the last week or so. He had even cut one training session short because the redhead just didn’t seem all there.

If anything it seemed like Storm being there was actually helping motivate the woman.

 

“Hey Bobby. Can we talk?”

 

The man in question was a bit taken aback by Becky’s request. As of lately she had been wasting no time in leaving the gym as soon as their training sessions were over. So to see her still here when he had called their session fifteen minutes ago was a bit shocking. “Course. What’s on your mind?”

 

“What are we doing here?”

 

“Gotta be more specific than that.”

 

Becky looked irritated by his insistence on clarification. “Why’s she here? Is Ruby leavin’ or somethin’?”

 

“Nah. Ruby ain’t leaving. Charlotte brought Toni in to help.”

 

“How is she helpin’? She’s not half bad but I’m not here to drag someone up to my level. All she’s gonna do is slow me down. I’m gettin’ ready for Sasha Banks, not some idiot off the street. Are you even taking this seriously?” Becky accused.

 

Bobby bristled at the implication but kept his cool. On the outside you’d hardly notice he was bothered at all. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that… Unless you are dead set on sprinting till you puke tomorrow.”

 

Becky huffed and crossed her arms. “Fine... “ The redhead’s bravado left her and she looked down at the ground for a moment. She knew she was being an ass but it was getting harder to turn off ‘The Man’. Even when she wasn’t in public. It was easier to pretend she was untouchably confident that to face her problems. “Still don’t know why she’s here.”

 

“She’s here for the same reasons you are. To learn and help make you better.”  
  
Becky raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “How does she make me better when I’m going to be holding her hand the whole time?”

 

“One, you are underestimating her. Toni’s a lot better than you’re admitting. And two, you needed another sparring partner besides Ruby.”

 

“I like sparring with Ruby.”

 

“Good for you. But Toni isn’t Ruby. She brings something else to the table.”

 

Becky looked unimpressed. “And what’s that? An accent?”

 

“Think about it without your ego for a couple seconds. What is Ruby great at? How does she fight?”

 

“She prefers to keep things close. Great grappler. Strong grip and isn’t afraid to take things to the ground.” Becky rattled off like facts on the back of a trading card.

 

Lashley nodded. “And how does Sasha fight?”

 

“Like a bitch.”

 

Lashley gave her a stern look and repeated. “How does Sasha fight? What are her strengths? Where is she comfortable?”

 

Becky was quiet after his rebuke and decided to just give a straightforward answer. “She’s one of the best strikers out there. Prefers to stay on the outside and pick people apart till they are compromised enough to move in for the kill.”

 

“There’s your answer.”

 

Becky thought about it for a moment before the pieces fell into place. “You brought Toni in because she fights like Sasha and can mimic her to an extent.”

 

“It’s not the only reason but we thought it would help.”

 

“We?” The redhead questioned.

 

“Charlotte and I. We were talking about bringing in more fighters and she was the one who mentioned Storm because of her and Sasha’s similar fighting style.”

 

Becky was contemplative. Quietly taking in the new information that seemed to clash with thoughts on her own self worth. Charlotte was thinking about her and knowing that simple fact formed a tiny crack in her walls. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The redhead.

 

"We were going to go out for a team dinner to celebrate Toni's first day if you want to tag along. I'm sure everyone would love to see you." Bobby stated.

 

"Not hungry. Have a good time." Becky said before walking out and driving back to her apartment. She couldn't stay around them any longer. She didn't want to ruin the blonde's first day and taint it. 

 

**Charlotte**

 

“I’m sorry. Did I hear you right? You want me to postpone and reschedule the rest of the tour?”

 

Charlotte stood her ground. “I just can’t in good conscience not say something. Ms. Lynch is in no condition to be on the road right now.”

 

Shane McMahon looked at her like she was certifiably insane. “You can’t honestly be serious?”

 

“I am. You’ve seen her out there.”

 

“Yes… I have. I fail to see the problem here.”

 

She had known coming in the conversation wasn’t going to be easy. Nor was she all that hopeful that Shane would listen to her. But she would have felt dirty never bringing up her concerns. “You don’t see the problem with shoving an alcoholic who just relapsed on stage and making her dance for you? Just give me a week or two.”

 

“Do you know what that week or two would cost me?” The McMahon questioned her incredulously.

 

“I’m sure it would cost a lot-”

 

“Damn right it would cost a lot. Your girl signed the contract. She knew what this was.”

 

“She did. But I’m not going to just stand here and watch this trainwreck.”

 

“This trainwreck is ratings Charlotte. Can’t you see? Just sit back and watch the money roll in.” Shane grinned and leaned back in his chair. Plopping his limited edition Nike’s on the table without a care in the world.

 

Charlotte inhaled deeply through her nose. Closing her eyes and counting to three while wringing the leather strap of her bag in her hand. “You’re happy with that?”

 

Shane was now looking at her like she wasn’t even speaking the same language anymore. “Of course.”

 

“Well I’m not.”

 

The McMahon regarded her with the annoyance of an adult dealing with a child who just didn’t ‘get it’. The affable public persona he had crafted for himself fell away and the ruthless businessman beneath was left behind. “Here’s the deal. Either you learn to deal with it or I ban you from the rest of the tour. I suggest if you care so much about your fighter that you take option one.”

 

Charlotte bit her tongue and just nodded. Gathering her things and stepping towards the door.

 

Just as her hand hit the handle Shane spoke up again, “You know, I expected you of all people to know how the game is played up here in the big time. Your father certainly did.”

 

Her fist tightened around the door handle. She kept her back to the McMahon lest he see how much the tiny comment had angered her. “See you in LA.”

 

**Sasha**

 

“What is it?” Sasha asked as she accepted the bottle.

 

“What does it look like? It’s rum,” Teddy said with a hint of impatience.

 

Sasha gave him a dirty look as she answered saying: “No shit, why do I have it? What does it have to do with me?”

 

“That’s your new sponsor. They want to make you the face of ‘Boss Rum’,” Teddy explained happily. Sasha was impressed despite herself.

 

“I thought I was corporate kryptonite at the moment,” Sasha said as she turned the bottle over in her hand.

 

“You are, don’t get it twisted…” Teddy said archly “...But you lucked out with this one.”

 

“Touche…” Sasha muttered.

 

“But it’s a good figure and all you gotta do is shout them out on your social media accounts and give them some love in an interview,” Teddy explained. Before Sasha could answer, the door to the room they were in opened and Meng stuck his head in.

 

“Times up Teddy, Banks is mine now,” the trainer grunted.

 

“Right you are sir, right you are…” Teddy said as she stood “...Be brilliant.”

 

“I always am-” Sasha quipped but then was hit in the chest with a gym bag.

 

“Change, I’ll meet you over at the Madjai center,”  Meng said. Since the latest presser would be in LA, Sasha was lucky in that she got train in her usual facility, always easier than improvising things on the road.

 

“Why don’t I just change there?” Sasha asked him.

 

“Because you’re running,” Meng said with a small chuckle as he closed the door. Sasha blinked once before pulling out her phone and checking just how far it was from Teddy’s office to the Madjai.

 

Eleven miles.

 

Sasha sighed.

 

Running eleven miles was an accomplishment at any time, but even more so when you did under the California sun AND at a pace that wouldn’t have Meng up your ass when you got to your destination. So it was a sweat drenched Sasha Banks that finally arrived at the Madjai center. When she finally did she found Meng waiting for her in the parking lot. Her trainer was ostentatiously enjoying water from a cooler.

 

“Took you long enough,” he said by way of greeting.

 

All Sasha could do was put both hands on her hips and take a few deep breaths.

 

“You look like you just hiked through a rainstorm, you oughta think about shaving that mane off. You’d stay a lot cooler.”

 

“I’ll fire you if you even suggest that again,” Sasha muttered in a disgruntled voice.

 

“Oh no...not that, how would I ever survive NOT having to deal with MMA’s biggest diva on a regular basis?” Meng asked sarcastically.

 

“Oh fuck off you ancient bastard,” Sasha said as she dropped down onto the bench next to him. This was more of less how they always interacted with each other. Harsh though their words were, Sasha liked Meng and sensed that he was coming to like her. But neither of them would ever admit this.

 

“Go meet Sane down at the pool,” was all Meng said in response as he stood and grabbed the cooler before Sasha could take a water to refresh her empty bottle.

 

“Yeah, well I wasn’t thirsty anyway!” Sasha shouted after him.

 

Twenty minutes later she was standing beside Kairi Sane at the edge of one of the Madjai Center’s many pools. This was one of the center’s most popular training areas as it was specialized for underwater work. Several oxygen masks hung down from the ceiling and would allow athletes to stay underwater almost indefinitely. Sasha had spent many an hour here shadow boxing in the pool, building her muscles against the improved resistance.

 

“Sane! Into the pool first, five minutes! Listen for the buzzer,” Meng shouted as he arrived. Kairi clearly understood this English and she promptly hopped into the water. Sasha watched her sink down to the bottom of the pool as Meng arrived. “What do you know about Lashley’s career?” he asked without any sort of preamble.

 

The question caught Sasha off guard but she was used to Meng’s conversational style. She took a moment to think before she admitted: “Almost nothing, he was Teddy’s head trainer before I got to Thuggin and Bugging.”

 

“Of course you never bothered to learn anything about him,” Meng muttered as he rolled his eyes. Sasha put both hands down on her temper as it began to flare. Her trainer didn’t chat idly, there was obviously a point to this.

 

“I didn’t, I was just happy to have him training me,” Sasha admitted, truthfully. Even when she’d first arrived Lashley had an astounding reputation. She’d been beyond surprised when he’d begun to transfer the majority of his efforts to her and away from some of the more established male fighters.

 

“Happy enough to fire him during a tantrum?” Meng asked as he produced an apple and began to eat it. It made him look like a total asshole.

 

“Something you want to say you desiccated old fuck?” Sasha growled.

 

Meng barked a laugh at this as he offered Sasha the unbitten part of the apple. Part of her was a bit grossed out but then her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since early in the morning. Taking a big bite she handed it back. “Bobby could have been an amazing fighter, he was training to be one for a long time.”

 

Sasha nodded, though she found this hard to reconcile with her own mental image of her former trainer.  Something about Bobby’s quiet serenity seemed to just suggest the role of mentor or coach. It was less easy for her to imagine him doing anything as aggressive as actually fighting someone else.

 

“So what happened?” she finally asked.

 

“He happened,” Meng said as he checked his stopwatch. Sasha shot a look at the clock on the wall and estimated Sane had about three minutes left under the water.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Bobby decided that fighting wasn’t his path. He loved the strategy and the training but he didn't have any real desire to get into the cage. So he decided he was going to train. He’s a natural at it, better than I ever was even after only a few years,” Meng said.

 

“So why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because I want you to remember what Bobby is like as a trainer. The work ethic, the passion, and the understanding. How he molded you into what you are and what you might be without him. Really think about that.”

 

Sasha thought for a time but Meng didn’t give any further guidance. And soon enough a loud buzzer sounded follow by the sound of Kairi Sane surfacing. The Japanese fighter removed the oxygen mask and handed it the Sasha before moving to stand beside Meng.

 

“Five minutes Banks, get going,” the trainer barked. Sasha checked that the weights around her ankles were secure before diving into the pool. She felt herself begin to sink instantly, which caused reflexive sudden spike in fear every time. But as her feet settled on the bottom of the pool she began to relax. She’d done this before.

 

As Sasha began working through an exhaustive ladder of punches, palm strikes, elbows, forearms, and more she began to think. The movements themselves were so seared into her mind that she didn’t need to focus much to do them perfectly. The removal of all other stimuli and distractions while underwater aided into the process.

 

She thought about Bobby Lashley.

 

The man who had been her mentor for so long. The man who, as Meng had put it, had molded her into the fighter she was. The man whom she’d once thought of as a friend. The very same man whom she’d tossed aside on an angry him. Yet another victim of ‘the Boss’.

 

She thought about him and all he’d done for her, and all he’d taught her. If Sasha was the Bantamweight Champion of the world it was only thanks to him. What positive work and training habits she now had were the ones he’d inculcated in her. She was reflecting on this when she heard the sound of the buzzer going off from above the water. Swimming upward she clambored out of the pool and handed the mask off to Kairi.

 

As the Japanese woman vanished into the water Meng asked: “Any conclusions?”

 

“I’m not sure what conclusion you want me to reach,” Sasha admitted as she wrung out her hair.

 

“Well then, we’ll wait,” Meng said. And, sure enough, he didn’t say another word to her until Sane resurfaced besides telling her to get back into the pool. Throughout the wait, and her time in the pool Sasha was thinking. She was running back through every memory she had with Bobby. From the time a nervous and scared Sasha Banks had first been intimidated by the man’s huge frame to their hug after she’d won her title.

 

Every fight, every training session, she was thinking about them all.

 

Of course this was a huge section of her past that she had to troll back through, so it was spread out over two underwater sessions. But in her third she was reflecting on how anxious she’d always been before fighting under Bobby. Before each fight she’d been so nervous and certain she’d lose. It was to combat this that she’d first created the Boss. But more than that it had always been Bobby’s training in the final days before the fight that had always kept her grounded and confident.

 

Under his training, she’d felt she’d always had the edge. So she’d felt she could always climb a bit higher with each fight. Even if the other woman was a better fighter than Sasha when she accepted the fight, Sasha knew that SHE would be the better fighter when the time came. Thanks to her trainer.

 

Then the light bulb went off.

 

Though she hadn’t heard the buzzer she shot to the surface. Almost as soon as her head broke through Meng barked: “Can you not hear now Banks?”

 

But Sasha was too eager to share her epiphany to care. She pulled herself out of the pool and said: “I haven’t been challenging myself.”

 

Meng narrowed his eyes and just said: “Go on.”

 

“Since Bobby left, I haven’t been challenging myself. With him I felt secure to try and get better with each fight because I knew he’d get me there. Without him I’ve only fought people who I know I can beat or in situations that don’t count,” Sasha said, some of her enthusiasm dampening as she heard these depressing facts out loud.

 

Meng stared at her for a very long time, not speaking. Kairi, who obviously hadn’t been privy to any of their previous conversation was just looking confused. Meng kept them waiting for almost a full minute before he nodded and said: “Go get dressed, both of you. Sane, I need to talk to your interpreter, that bastard owes me $50 from last night.”

 

“Apologies, Mr. Meng...but...Mr. Funkaki is...is…” Sane was obviously struggling to find a word but Meng stepped in.

 

“The bastard is hungover, honestly after last night I’m surprised we aren’t both dead,” the trainer muttered. Sasha was left to wonder what the hell had gone on.

 

“Go get changed, film work for the rest of the day,” Meng finally said as he sauntered away leaving a confused Kairi and a bemused Sasha behind.

 

**Bayley**

 

“So how is everything going?” Bayley asked the image of Alexa Bliss on her laptop.

 

“Sub-optimally I must admit. I’ve tried implementing all the things you suggested. The results have not been encouraging,” Bliss admitted.

 

Bayley frowned, she could guess at the problem but how was she to express it to the hyper rational Alexa? “Maybe the problem is that you are trying to ‘implement’ them. They aren’t a battle plan, just things to be mindful of. You can’t solve your current problem like you would a concrete one.”

 

Alexa’s nostrils seemed to flare as she paused. But a moment later she spoke in a way that Bayley never heard before. “I’m...not good at this,” she admitted, sounding dejected. Despite her resolution to be more conscious about looking out for herself, Bayley couldn’t change her underlying nature. When she saw someone in pain, her instinct was to try and comfort.

 

“Maybe not yet, but you’ll get there. Just...do the little things. Smile, say hi, ask how they are. Eventually those things will build up. But don’t look at is as a way to ‘make’ people like you. Just look at it as trying to be kind to people around you,” Bayley encouraged.

 

“I will...endeavor to do so. Thank you Ms. Martinez,” Alexa said. Then, realizing her mistake she said: “Thank you...Bayley.” The first name sounded like it had to be dragged out of Alexa, but it was a step.

 

“Don’t mention it Alexa, just call me if you need any more help,” Bayley said with a smile. A smile that was a close approximation to her old one, but her heart still wasn’t quite healed enough to produce her former incandescent grin.

 

“I will, but I do need to go. I’m preparing Ms. Lynch- err...Becky for another interview,” Alexa announced, slipping back into her businesslike voice before she once again caught herself. “Ah...have a good day,” she told Bayley before ending their call.

 

Bayley sat back in her desk chair for a moment before saying: “It’s like dealing with a martian.”

 

She only allowed herself a few moments to smile at this before she returned to her work. Bayley had decided that one of the ways for her to start feeling more normal was to try and do something she knew she was good at. Reporting. So she decided to finally follow up with her source in St. Louis who had reached out to her shortly after she’d returned to California.

 

What she’d turned up about Bob Orton and his company was, to say the least, interesting.

 

Her digging and cajoling had turned up the fact that Orton’s company had netted almost three million dollars in revenue last year. Yet, only 2.8 had been reported to the board. So almost two hundred thousand in profit had been shuffled off the books under the auspices of a single line item called: ‘other expenses’. Bayley trusted her instincts and they were telling her that something was up.

 

But her sources weren’t placed to tell her where the money had actually gone. So Bayley had not only bought a trip to Boston but had also bought a ticket from there to St. Louis where she would spend a few days before turning to LA on time to meet with Styles about the next Banks-Lynch presser. Though she couldn’t have articulate this consciously, it did feel good to be busy again.

 

And she’d had more than enough to do. In the world of blog based journalism, speed and consistency were life. During her recent funk, Bayley had allowed all her platforms to lapse. More than that, she had always won praise for how much she interacted with her readers and followers. At first, she’d despaired of finding a way to communicate that she was back without having to go into too much detail as to why she’d vanished at all.

 

But it turned out that kindness can really be its own reward. At least when your kindness led you to assist Alexa Bliss. There wasn’t really a better person to go to if you needed a statement that conveyed what you wanted it to and nothing more. Alexa’s single paragraph and certainly done the trick, shifting the mood of Bayley’s public from confusion and mild annoyance to sympathetic solicitude. But the actual work of talking to her readers was still down to her.

 

Which was how she preferred things.

 

She’d put out one of two small updates, mostly conduiting other reporters work, but had also uploaded a commentary video. All of these were doing OK as far as traffic and at least had Bayley feeling somewhat confident ahead of her trip. Which reminded her of something she needed to do.

 

Picking up her phone Bayley called Charlotte.

 

Charlotte picked up the moment she saw the name flash on her screen. “Hey Bay. You doing alright?”

 

“Much better lately, thanks to you _chica,”_ Bayley said, doing her best to match Charlotte’s enthusiasm. She toyed with the idea of hinting to Charlotte about what she would be doing in St. Louis but decided against it. She didn’t really have much to share yet.

 

“At least you’re feeling better.” Charlotte said. “Now I’m just stuck dealing with ‘The Man’ all day.”

 

Bayley wasn’t quite ready to joke about, or even talk about, Becky yet. But she forced a laugh and then asked: “So, I hate to bother you with how busy you are but I wondered if I could ask a favor?”

 

“Anything. What do you need?”

 

“I’m going to be in town for your Toni Storm announcement and...well...finances are tight. I was wondering if anyone was using Becky’s old room at the gym and if not...could I shack up there for a day or two?” Bayley asked, already wondering if she was asking too much.

 

Charlotte’s answer came swift and assured. “Of course. Toni actually moved into the old room at the gym, but I can make some room at my place easily. Should I stock up on those crappy chips you like before you get here?”

 

Bayley found herself grinning slightly even as she asked: “Are you sure? I don’t want impose.” She waited a moment before adding: “...And sabor de soledad are delicious thank you very much.”

 

“I’d be offended if you didn’t ask. The hotels around here are shit houses anyway.” Charlotte answered confidently. “And I guess I’ll get you some of those things if you insist. Come hungry though. I’m going to get those enchiladas done right this time.”

 

Any number of witty retorts suggested themselves to Bayley, but in the end she just said: “Thanks Char, for everything. Especially for being pushy enough to not let me push you away.”

 

“... I think you’ve called me stubborn on more than one occasion.”

 

“ _Como una mula._ I’ll see you in a day or so OK? I’ll bring the beer.”

 

**Becky**

 

The redhead rushed back inside her apartment and slammed the door shut behind herself. Taking care to engage the deadbolt and the chain so that she couldn’t be disturbed.

 

She didn’t want anyone to know what she was doing. Didn’t want to admit it out loud if she could avoid it.

 

Becky had just finished an intense sparring session with Toni and needed to unwind. The blonde played Sasha well, and while she wasn’t as great as the champion Toni was a good substitute  to practice with.

 

Now that today’s training was over Becky was ready to let go. At least for an hour or so she could forget her life and not think.

 

The redhead walked around her apartment and made sure all the blinds were pulled down and closed.

 

With a steady pace Becky walked towards the corner of her room. Stepping over an empty box and the veritable mountain of bubble wrap that had came with it and plopping herself down in the comfortable chair she had also purchased.

 

She rolled the chair towards the desk and reached out. Hoping that this would serve as a good distraction from the normal exhaustion that would take her over when alone lately.

 

An hour later Becky was frazzled beyond belief. “How did you do that? That’s cheating. I can’t even get back on the stupid platform.”

 

The sound of laughter made its way through Becky’s headphones. “It’s not cheating. You’re just bad at the game.”

 

“Am not! This games just stupid. How would Kirby beat up Samus anyways? She’s a badass bounty hunter and Kirby’s just fat and pink.”

 

“Well Kirby doesn’t have a complete noob controlling them.”

 

“How dare you!” Becky said in an overly theatrical pantomime of high offense. “I’m sorry we can’t all have so much free time to play video games Lizzie. Speaking of free time, did you finish your homework and chores before video games?”

 

“Ugh, yes. Who are you, my mom?”

 

“I’m just tryin’ to make sure you aren’t slackin’ off without me annoyin’ you at practice anymore.”

 

“You know Bayley never gets on my case like this when we play together.” Lizzie said.

 

Becky felt her stomach drop at the mention of her, maybe former, friend. She still hadn’t gotten a reply from the brunette other than simply knowing she’d seen her apology. “I’m sorry for wanting to check up on my favorite student. I guess I can let up on it though.”

 

“Same time next week?”

 

Becky smiled sadly, “I’m a little busy but I’ll try to make time.”

 

“Becky?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m sorry my mom won’t let me come to your class anymore.”

 

Becky wasn’t able to stop a few tears from sneaking out at the heartfelt words. “So am I.”

 

**Charlotte/Bayley**

 

Charlotte stared down at the fresh flowers she had laid on the gravestone almost five minutes ago. The wind picking up and making the petals flutter against the base of the stone.

 

She knew there was dark circles under her eyes but hadn’t bothered to try covering them up. Reid wouldn’t care.

 

She was tired. The travel alone was enough of a drain on her energy but when you added in the ‘new/old Becky Lynch’ it became soul draining. Every day a frustrating slog. Her attitude only getting more unbearable and ever present with each press conference.

 

The ground was slightly damp so Charlotte remained standing even though she should be taking the break she was offered while Becky trained back at the gym. She needed the sleep but more than anything she needed to find the strength to keep trying.

 

Charlotte heard footsteps making their way in her direction but simply ignored them.

 

Until she couldn’t. The footsteps coming to a stop right next to her.

 

“How did you… Wait. I already know. Because you’re a reporter right?” Charlotte joked in a soft voice. She unconsciously leaned slightly towards the other woman.

 

“Actually, I just asked Ruby,” Bayley said as she stood beside Charlotte. Out of reflex she wrapped an arm around the taller woman and looked down at the headstone in front of her. “I used to wonder where you’d vanish to occasionally when I was here, man were my guesses wrong,” she added.

 

Charlotte allowed herself the comfort Bayley offered. “I shudder to think what you thought I was doing… You would’ve liked him.”

 

“From everything I’ve heard, I think I would have….” Bayley said with a sad smile before looking down at the headstone and adding: “...In order to embarrass your sister to the max, Reid, I’ll tell you that she’s an amazing woman, an even better friend and...a so-so kisser.”

 

A laugh burst from Charlotte and she clasped a hand over her eyes. “Really Bayley? I don’t think he’d want to know that… And anyway, it takes two to kiss.”

 

Rather than answering directly, Bayley moved her hand from behind her back and offered Charlotte a luridly colorful bouquet of several different kinds of flowers which she handed to her friend. “ _Los mexicanos no lo hacemos sutil,”_ she added.

 

“They’re beautiful… Thank you.” Charlotte turned to wrap Bayley in a quick hug before kneeling down to place the new flowers next to the ones she had brought. “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

Bayley returned Charlotte’s hug and waited for her to stand before asking: “So, what were you two talking about?”

 

Charlotte hesitated to answer. But answered truthfully, “Becky.”

 

Bayley didn’t stiffen at this mention of the fighter, but only through a tremendous act of will. After only a moment she asked: “Good or bad?”

 

“You don’t need to listen to this. If you’d rather not I’d understand. We can talk about something else.” The offer made out of kindness. It was Bayley’s decision to make and Charlotte didn’t want to influence her.

 

“No, no, I’m the guest here. I’m just honored you’re letting me stay,” Bayley said as she stood somewhat behind Charlotte, wrapped her up, and rested her chin on Charlotte’s shoulder.

 

Charlotte took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “I’ve honestly thought about giving up. She doesn’t seem to care anymore. You’ve probably seen the press conferences. We just got back from the last one and the entire flight home Becky wouldn’t just stop. She’s pissed at everything I do to try and help her and when no one’s around she just mopes around and doesn’t tell me anything. I’m this close to just losing it on her.” Charlotte wanted to rant more but ran out of steam. “Again.” She added.

 

Bayley waited, unsure of how Charlotte’s process worked with her brother. But when she was sure that Charlotte was waiting on her she said: “I might not be the best person to ask but, I never gave up on her because I think there is someone remarkable under all the pain.”

 

It was something of a revelatory moment for Bayley as well as she realized she believed this. She didn’t know if she and Becky would ever even speak again, never mind rekindle their friendship. But she found that she did believe what she’d just said. Then she wondered what it said of her that she still could.

 

Charlotte allowed Bayley’s observation to sit in her head. “Even after? I’m trying my best to see it because I know there was something there but she isn’t exactly helping.”

 

Bayley sighed. The more she tried to change things, the more she seemed to end up back where she started. A day or two ago, she would have resented this mightily. But now, she was wondering if there was a reason for it.

 

“No one has more reason to give up on Becky than me. But then again, there was a time when I could have said that about you,” she pointed out, hugging Charlotte a big tighter.

 

‘It’d be a lot easier if we didn’t care about them. Wouldn’t it?” Charlotte felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Just admitting she cared about Becky was difficult. In fact, Bayley was the first person she’d ever verbalized the sentiment to. It wasn’t a grand romantic declaration but Charlotte was done ignoring it. God help her, she felt something for Becky Lynch. It wouldn’t hurt this much if she didn’t.

 

“If we could do that we wouldn’t be here. And if that was the case I wouldn’t have met Reid, so I’m glad we do…” Bayley said before transitioning to one arm around Charlotte’s shoulder again “...I can wait if you’re not done but I believe there was some mention of you burning something for me?”

 

Charlotte groaned. “That was one time… Thanks for listening. If you don’t know it I really, really, really appreciate everything you did. I know it wasn’t fair to put so much on you back then but I can’t change the past. Let me take care of you tonight. We can just have a nice night and not think about anything serious… And hopefully eat some good homemade food.”

 

“With your cooking? Changing the past might be easier,” Bayley quipped as she put an arm through Charlotte’s. She didn’t need to tell Charlotte that she never needed to be thanked, her friend knew that. Just like she knew that Bayley could never thank her enough for pulling her out when she’d been drowning in despair. Both women knew these things, both didn’t need to say them, and both loved the other for it.

 

An hour and a half later Bayley was standing next to a chagrined Charlotte looking down at would could only be described as a blackened mass of carbon in a pan as she fanned smoke away from her face. “I know you didn’t grow up in a Mexican household or anything, so I can forgive some knowledge gaps, but….that is not how enchiladas are supposed to look.”

 

“Thanks for your expertise.” Charlotte teased. Frowning and place the pan in the sink and quickly running some water over the mess and leaving it for later. “So… Pizza?”

 

“For the sake of your apartment that might be best,” Bayley answered jokingly.

 

“I really don’t know what went wrong this time. I thought I set the timer.” Charlotte shook her head in disappointment while pulling out her phone to send in their order. “What do you want on it?”

 

“What is ‘Boston Pizza’?” Bayley asked as she looked at the menu Charlotte had tossed at her.

 

“Mostly a sloppy mess of grease and dough to soak up all the beer they sell during baseball season.” Charlotte explained. “It’s not half bad.”

 

Bayley giggled and said: “Well, far be it from me to turn my nose up at such a high example of local culture.”

 

“We’ll see how you feel when it gets here.” Moving over towards the fridge and pulling out two bottles of beer. Slapping the cap off of one with the side of her countertop and sliding it over towards the reporter with a wry smile.

 

“It’s been too long since we did this, are you sure I can’t convince you to relocate out to California?” Bayley asked as she took a quick drink. She’d been joking so Charlotte’s next answer actually surprised her.

 

“If it wasn’t so much work I might think about it. The cold and snow gets a little annoying after a while.” Charlotte pulled out a bottle opener for her own. “Maybe one day I’ll open a second gym out there and I can use it as an escape. Leave Ruby or someone else in charge for the winter.”

 

“Are things going that well?” Bayley asked, interested by this hint. She assumed that the gym had to be prospering as a result of Becky’s success, but Charlotte rarely spoke of such things to her or, she assumed, anyone.

 

“They’re going very well.” Charlotte admitted. Taking a pull from her beer and tapping her fingernails against the glass. “I’ve spent so long trying to get the gym off the ground again and protect what my dad started. It’s weird having to adjust my mindset and think about building. Ever since Becky got here the numbers have steadily been going up. With all the hype around this next fight it’s just kept going. I’m not sure if I’m even happy with the increase in attention.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Bayley asked. She was determined to be a good listener for Charlotte tonight, she felt she owed her friend that much and much more.

 

“I keep wondering if it makes me a bad person to be happy. I’m benefitting from Becky while she is falling apart. Shane wouldn’t listen to me. I know that Becky shouldn’t be trying to do this tour but I can’t stop it.” Charlotte set down the beer harder than she meant to.

 

Bayley nodded sympathetically. “Well it will be no news to you but Shane McMahon is an amoral piece of crap. But I’ll also point out that the better you are doing, the more able to help Becky you become.”

 

Charlotte took a moment before nodding along. “Did you read the short statement on the ‘training incident’ and her black eye?”

 

“I did...didn’t seem like Alexa’s usual level of work,” Bayley offered cautiously, sensing they were coming close to something significant.

 

“That’s because it wasn’t. Or at least not her best. She was covering my back even though I distinctly remember telling her to put out whatever she wanted.” Charlotte offered. Knowing the idea of a cover up would be like dangling a steak in front of a starving dog to a reporter. “Funny enough Alexa has actually been oddly nice lately. Kind of freaks me out.”

 

“Covering you?” Bayley asked, not really hearing the final words at first. When they registered she looked sheepish and asked: “Maybe...being a bit more personable?”

 

“That’s one way to put it. She actually asked me how I was doing one day.” Charlotte shook her head and took another drink. “Had to make sure it was really her.”

 

Bayley smiled inwardly, oddly pleased by this evidence of her work. But it was up to Alexa if she wanted to share what they’d been doing. So instead she repeated her earlier question: “Covering your back?”

 

“It wasn’t a training incident. Not really.” Charlotte saw that Bayley was giving her a stare and wouldn’t back down till she had an answer. “I might have been the one to give her the black eye. It’s why she wore those stupid goggle type things through the first couple press conferences.”

 

“Why would- oh…” Bayley said, her analytical mind supplying the answer to her question before she could finish it. There was really only one thing she knew of that could prompt Charlotte to attack Becky.

 

“She just looked so… fine. And I had just gotten back from California.” Charlotte knew she shouldn’t have actually hit the redhead no matter how much she felt it was deserved. “I almost hit her again when she said she didn’t remember any of it.”

 

“She didn’t?” Bayley asked, sounding bleak now as she looked down at the bottle she held in both hands. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about this fact.

 

“That’s what she said. I didn’t believe her at first but she’s not that good an actor.” Charlotte answered. Her eyes narrowing as she picked up the shift in tone. “You alright? I was serious when I said we don’t have to talk about her.”

 

“No it’s OK...I guess I’d rather hear it from you. But it kind of explains this,” Bayley said as she held out her phone to Charlotte. Very conscious of how the act echoed when she’d played Becky’s voicemail for her friend.

 

Charlotte held the phone and was worried that she would see more of the same. Instead she read a contrite apology from Becky that seemed genuine. It didn’t shock her when she saw the date and did the math. She carefully handed the phone back. “I notice she didn’t mention that fact… What are you going to do?”

 

“I don’t know...does it make me weak that I believe her? But even though I do I’m not ready to see her. I’ll cover your presser and then probably just hideout until my flight,” Bayley said sadly. This didn’t feel right at all. She was in Boston, by all rights she and Becky should have been going out for some terrible coffee, not awkwardly avoiding each other.

 

“You’re not weak wanting to believe the best in her. If it makes you feel better I think she was being honest. But I’d still tell you to not see her. She’s… Not in a good place.” Charlotte was quick to try and minimize, “I just don’t think she’s ready to face what she’s done. I’ll be honest that message reads like an entirely different person from the one I’ve been dealing with.”

 

She could see that Bayley would internalize this so Charlotte interjected before it could happen.

 

“Don’t blame yourself or think you owe her. When it’s just me and her she keeps telling me it’s just an act. If you want a juicy story to run, Shane confronted Becky and Sasha after the London presser and told them to play things up for the cameras. Asshole told them that nobody cared unless they were talking shit. And the worse part is, if you look at the numbers, he’s right.” Charlotte lamented with an exhausted chuckle.

 

Bayley’s insides were churning as she processed all the information she’d just been given. It hurt her more than Charlotte probably knew that she might be a constant source of pain to Becky. And this irritated her because she was trying to be more assertive about her own needs. Then there was the revelation about Shane McMahon and the light it shed on the subsequent press conferences the two fighters had given.

 

What if the Sasha she’d seen in London, the ‘painfully boring’ Sasha, was who the fighter was now? Was she really committed to ‘being better’? Was Bayley herself foolish to allow herself the spark of hope that had just flared into existence in her heart?

 

She didn’t know.

 

What she did know was that she truly loved and appreciated Charlotte’s attempt to distract her with the idea of a story. She was truly glad she hadn’t ever written the blonde off despite the many opportunities to do so. Trying to focus on this she said: “Headline: Shane McMahon...POS. Not exactly the news of the century is it?” She hoped Charlotte would detect the hint of gratitude she put behind the words without making Bayley say what she feeling directly.

 

Charlotte gave the other woman a smile and laughed. “No. I suppose it isn’t. Anyways, how about you? Have you been getting out like I told you too? Keep in mind, if you say no, I will force you to eat this entire pizza by yourself.”

 

Bayley laughed, saying “First, what makes you think I couldn’t or wouldn’t just eat the whole pizza anway. Second, yes I have MOTHER. Went to another baseball game which went way better than the last one. And I’ve been….helping someone with a problem. Also I even tried sunchips.”

 

Charlotte was grinning widely. Feeling proud that she had managed to help Bayley get out of her funk. Maybe that meant she still had a chance to help Becky. “I’ll let you get away with calling me that. I’ll even let you get away with being so vague about whatever problem you’re helping with. But don’t think I’m going to let you off the hook forever.”

 

“I don’t remember you being this nosy,” Bayley teased as she helped Charlotte grab plates and napkins for their food.

 

Charlotte started to crack up and winked over at Bayley. “I learned from one of the best. Nice girl, but she had a tendency to not back down when she senses something going on with a friend.”

 

Bayley groaned as she took another sip of beer before saying: “Whoever she was, damn her.”

 

**Sasha**

 

Sasha found that recently she had been doing a great deal of brooding.

 

Thought her training had never felt more natural, the rest of her life was feeling...false. As though she were constantly on display and constantly expected to put on a show. But not the show most people would have assumed. No, this was a self imposed performance. Or at least that was how she was now seeing it.

 

Was Sasha really even supposed to ‘be better’?

 

No insight came to her as she ran down the streets of LA. She wouldn’t normally have done this to avoid a potential scene, but she’d been restless that morning. It was one of her off days with Meng and she’d hoped to spend some time relaxing at home. But she hadn’t been able to get settled, so she was hoping to tire herself out.

 

She’d been at it for almost an hour, nothing so far.

 

No matter what she did it seemed the world either didn’t care that she was trying, or was actively working to push her backward. Sasha could acknowledge that she’d made some progress toward escaping ‘the Boss’, and maybe some positive changes in her life. But progress toward what?

 

Toward a life of loneliness? One where she had nothing to comfort her but being secure in the knowledge that she was ‘being better’? What the hell kind of a deal was that.

 

In an effort to rehab her image, which was still suffering from Zelina’s interview, Teddy had scheduled some softball appearances for Sasha around LA. She media had been full of pictures of Sasha visiting sick kids, signing autographs, and even playing double dutch with some kids on a playground. It had all been very wholesome, and very good for her PR score. And it had all been false.

 

Teddy had carefully staged each occasion, making sure that only people who were positively disposed to her would be around. She even suspected him of screening which sick kids she saw. The meetings had a ‘stepford wives’ quality to them that Sasha had resented mightily, even as she’d smiled through them.

 

She’d yearned for more authentic human reaction. To see if her efforts were actually amounting to anything real. If the newer and better Sasha would be able to be less lonely than the boss.

 

That had been a disaster.

 

On a whim, Sasha had gotten in her car with a box of t-shirts and PR photos and driven to a random park in LA. Parking her Lamborghini, which had automatically drawn a crowd, she’d stepped out and had been greeted by a sea of raised cell phones. Setting up on a bench she’d signed shirts and pictures, posed for photos, and tried her best to greet as many people as possible.

 

This had seemed to work for awhile, though she had to admit she was being false here as well. She was really just imitating how she imagined Bayley would interact with these people. But the act had been convincing.

 

Then the cameras had arrived.

 

Sasha had tired to just ignore them as she continued to greet people, but that had quickly become impossible. Then she’d tried to, respectfully, ask the media to let others through. That had gone about as well as anyone could have guessed. It had become more and more difficult to even speak to fans as the media had bombarded her questions.

 

“ _Sasha! Is this a publicity stunt to distract from the Vega interview?”_

 

_“Sasha! How do you respond to the reports that, with Bobby Lashley in her corner, Lynch is unbeatable?”_

 

_“Sasha! Zelina made a comment to Howard Stern about your sex life, said you weren’t ‘boss in bed’. Do you have a comment?”_

 

This last one was enough to gode Sasha into reacting. She knew she shouldn’t, and she knew it was a no win situation. But she couldn’t help it, the beast rose within.

 

“Would you ask any other woman that question?” she snapped at the man holding his phone up.

 

He was ready with his response. “If she was a public figure whose former fiance had just talked about it on a national radio show then yeah! The people have the right to know!’ he said smugly.

 

“Oh ‘the people’ have a right to know huh? Yeah you’re a big goddamn hero, wrapping yourself in the 1st amendment like that. You know there are real fucking journalists in the world that actually need that protection but sure, you’re JUST as important!” she snapped at the man, who was now at the center of a ring of cameras with Sasha herself.

 

“I don’t think it’s your right to decide what counts as ‘real’ journalism and what doesn’t Sasha,” the man said with a shit eating grin that made Sasha want to punch him. Yet he was saved by the intervention of a third part.

 

Then things got even worse for Sasha.

 

Something slimy hit Sasha in the side of the face. She automatically jumped backward, spinning to look for the source of the missile. But then two more objects hit her causing her to flinch backward. This brought her eyes downward and she saw what was hitting her, wet rags.

 

Before she could process this the chanting started. “Clean the filth, clean the filth, clean the filth!” a chorus of voices shouted over and over. Looking up Sasha saw a whole group of people in white shirts and black slacks flooding the sidewalk, pushing between the media. Their angry faces forming a ring around Sasha.

 

“If this filth monger won’t clean herself then we will clean up her act for her!” a female voice sounded from somewhere back in the crowd, amplified by a bullhorn. In response a whole hail of wet rags pelted Sasha as she backed up against a low wall.

 

“What the fuck?” she demanded as she tried to cover her face.

 

The chanting continued but the woman’s voice could be heard over it: “Sasha Banks is an immoral stain on the fabric of our society and we at Right to Censor will not stand idly by and let her poison our children!”

 

Sasha tried several times to shout something back but she couldn’t make herself heard over the chanting. She was trying to find a way through the crowd to her car when she suddenly let out a squealing gasp. Someone had upended a bucket of soapy water over her head. Unfortunately she was wearing a white athletic top that wasn’t ideal when soaking wet. With her arms firmly wrapped around herself she spun looking for whoever had just drenched her.

 

Locating the man Sasha’s eyes narrowed. The Boss leapt to her feet in the back of Sasha’s mind. One hand left her chest to curl into a fist. She could pound the puny little shit in a whimpering pile of puke. It would feel so good, and he deserved it. She felt her leg muscles tensing, preparing to spring. But then she caught a glimpse through a gap in the crowd. She saw a woman hurrying her child away from the scene.

 

Then she remembered why she’d come here, and who she’d really been trying to impress. So with a physical shudder, she dragged her eyes away from the man who had dumped the water on her. Almost as though she was having to force her legs to work against their will, she made her way over to her car. It looked for a moment like the protestors wouldn’t let her through but they did part, allowing her to get in.

 

Though they’d let her in the car, they didn’t seem to have any intention of letting her leave. So Sasha had been forced to sit in her car, being photographed and recorded the whole time, while police finally cleared the demonstration. It had been humiliating and Sasha had been livid.

 

In the present, Sasha continued her run while wondering why she was doing all of this. Why was she trying so hard to change herself, she’d won a MMA championship as herself. How wasn’t that good enough? Why was SHE having to do all the adjusting to accommodate the world? To accommodate…her.

 

Sasha had a moment then when she finally admitted something she hadn’t been allowing herself to even think. Everything she’d been doing, all the changes she’d been making, had been for ‘her’. All in an effort to try and somehow ‘earn’ back ‘her’ love. But she was growing very tired of the work for no return.

 

She knew Bayley had seen her email. The reporter checked her messages obsessively. But no response had come back to Sasha. At first, Sasha had told herself that she couldn’t expect a response. But now, after the few days she’d had, she was starting to think maybe she was entitled to one.

 

At some point Sasha did finally make it back to her home. She lived right on the coast, her home on a cliff overlooking the Pacific. But as she got closer she sagged as she saw the cordon of protestors blocking her gate. Without even getting close enough to hear she knew they’d be chanting ‘clean the filth’ which they’d been doing more or less nonstop from dawn to dusk for several days.

 

Closing her eyes Sasha slumped down onto the sidewalk and took out her phone. She had to call Teddy to send her a car which the protestors, after a long display, finally let into her driveway. Slouching inside Sasha dropped listlessly onto the bench in her entryway.

 

She had packing to do tonight. Though the next press conference was being held in LA, it had been decided that she would spend the night before at the hotel where it was being held. That would be tomorrow and she needed to get some things together. So she did eventually haul herself up off the bench and toward her room.

 

She was thinking as she went. Not just about her interactions with the protestors, but with the media, and even with some fans. The whole world seemed to want to assume that she was a bad person, no matter what she did. It was so unfair that she had to sniff to hold back a tear. All of this for someone who wouldn’t even talk to her.

  
Without realizing it Sasha had walked into her closet and looking to the side she saw a pair of her old ‘boss’ sunglasses sitting out on a shelf. She stared at them for a long time.

 

Maybe she was just done.

 

**Bayley**

 

Bayley had never been to St. Louis before, and what little she’d seen of it made her think she might enjoy coming back someday to visit. But she’d have no opportunity to sight see this trip. She was feeling as alive as she ever did. She was on the trail of a lead, and a lead that promised something big.

 

How Becky and Sasha felt in the cage, was how Bayley felt in situations like this.

 

She’d always had a gift for getting people to talk to her, for getting people to trust her. Indeed, this was the reason why Alexa Bliss had come to her for lessons on the subject. But this was only half of what Bayley a good reporter and writer. Maybe even more important was the fact that Bayley was almost constitutionally incapable of leaving well enough alone.

 

In her personal relationships this often showed itself with her refusal to give up on people, often to her detriment. But in her professional life, it made her a bloodhound for a story. She simply couldn’t let important questions remain unanswered until she’d given her all in trying to answer them. And it was the trait that had her in St. Louis.

 

She’d initially begun looking into Bob Orton and his company simply an extension of her research into Charlotte and her gym. She’d early on uncovered the fact that Charlotte’s father had negotiated to sell almost 40% of the gym to Orton. And while she’d found this interesting, it had been interesting in how it informed Charlotte’s actions. Now it was different.

 

Now it might be a story in it’s own right.

 

In some ways, Bayley knew, she was out of her depth. She was approaching territory that might be closer to ‘hard news’ than sports journalism. But though she often doubted herself in every aspect of her life, when it came this sort of thing Bayley was absolutely confident. She wasn’t going to back down on this or any other big scoop.

 

Of course, it was all well and good to be confident in one’s self. It was another to take that and turn into productivity. And that was the phase Bayley was stuck in now. She sensed in her very bones that there was a story to be had here. But how to dig it up? Not helping this process was the knowledge that she had two days to do it.

 

Her original source had been a woman named Dana Brooke who worked for Orton as an accountant. Bayley had met Brooke by simply placing calls to Orton’s office and asking questions. The office staff had been well trained as to what do with such inquiries and had stonewalled. Bayley had been prepared to write the angle off, it wasn’t that critical to her story at the time, when she’d gotten a call.

 

Brooke had reached out to her with the tantalizing hint that she felt she might ‘need a reporter to call’ in the future. Bayley had done some gentle prying but Brooke hadn’t been willing to budge at that time. As she’d also provided Bayley with the info she’d wanted, Bayley had let the matter rest at that. But she’d kept half an ear cocked.

 

She’d heard nothing until her return to the West Coast and even then she hadn’t been in a position to follow up. Life had intervened since then but now she was here. She’d reached out to Brooke who had been surprisingly eager to meet with her given their long period of non-contact. So now Bayley was in a rideshare on her way to a bar to meet the woman.

 

As far as she’d been able to tell from her internet research, Dana Brooke was an everywoman. She had the usual social media accounts, a few old references here and there scattered across the internet, and seemed to be an accomplished weight lifter. None of this told Bayley much about Brooke’s character, but it was something.

 

As was her habit, Bayley arrived well before her appointed meeting time. The bar proved to be a non-descript sports themed tavern. Bayley enjoyed this sort of place but the little she’d been able to glean about Dana Brooke made her surprised at the choice. The other woman seemed more like a cocktail lounge sort.

 

Ordering herself a diet pepsi and some mozzarella sticks Bayley took out her phone as she waited. She’d filed her story for ESPN covering the Storm announcement the day before, and Styles had come back with what was, for him, effusive praise. She’d also put some updates out on her site and platforms to good response. All this meant that she didn’t much in the way or work mail to deal with.

 

But as she looked at her nearly empty inbox she saw the one message still there. The one she’d left there, because she wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Or even if she wanted to.

 

Bayley had listened to Sasha’s video message enough times that she had it more or less memorized. A large part of her kept urging her to delete it, why keep an automatic anxiety trigger around. Another part of her wanted to send back a message as vicious as anything Sasha had ever sent her. To show the fighter how it felt when someone responded to your heart with venom.

 

But she did neither of these things. She had no idea what she would do, so she just closed her email once more and killed time. But inevitably her thoughts drifted back to her situation with Sasha, and then with Becky. She was idly daydreaming about how different her life could have been when someone slid into the booth across from her.

 

“Ms...Ms. Martinez? I”m Dana Brooke. I recognized you from your picture,” the blonde woman introduced herself. She looked at nervously before adding: “The side pony really makes it easy to spot you.”

 

“One of its many benefits,” Bayley said with a smile.

 

It didn’t take someone as perceptive as Bayley to see that Brooke was a nervous wreck. Some of this wasn’t unexpected, many people got nervous talking to reporters. But even allowing for that, it was obvious the blonde woman was sitting on something big. And as eager as she was to find out what it was, Bayley knew that job #1 for her was to settle the other woman.

 

“Want some?” Bayley said, speaking absolutely casually as she slide the basket of mozzarella sticks toward Brooke.

 

“Oh…umm...I...thank you,” Brooke said, still sounding as though she were afraid she might explode at any moment. She took one of the sticks and took a bite mechanically, as though she were eager to prove to Bayley she’d done so.

 

“Something to drink? I’m buying,” Bayley asked, still speaking in a tone you might use to soothe  a spooked animal.

 

“I umm...is it a good idea for us to be drinking? I mean...given…” Brooke trailed off here.

 

“Given what? We’re just two acquaintances having a drink?” Bayley asked casually, eating another stick. She knew she had to calm this woman down or she’d bolt soon. “Besides…” she added lightly “...It would seem more odd for you to arrive here, not get anything to eat or drink, and leave quickly.”

 

She said this mostly as a joke. She did not believe that Brooke would have been followed to this meeting. But it seemed like Brooke thought it was a possibility so Bayley hoped that by saying this she might allay a fear and lighten the mood. Yet Brooke seemed to take it more as purely practice advice.

 

Shooting a look around the room she said: “Should I order something? Wait, should I not pay with a credit card?” Bayley had to work hard not to roll her eyes, Brooke had watched way too many spy movies. But she took the chance to reassure her again by producing some bills and tossing them onto the table.

 

“As I said, it’s on me,” she told the nervous woman with a smile. Brooke’s posture relaxed fractionally and Bayley finally felt she’d made some progress.

 

She waited for Brooke to place her drink order and then engaged the other woman in some small talk. Nothing of substance was said but that was fine, she was simply trying to acclimate the woman to the idea that talking to a reporter needn’t be terrifying. Handling people was a big part of her her job, and she’d gotten good with prickly personalities since she worked in the world of MMA. Brooke wasn’t prickly, but she was sensitive in her own way.

 

After about twenty minutes of talk Bayley reached into her bag and produced her recorder. Raising an eyebrow she said: “We don’t have to do this on the record if you prefer Ms. Brooke.”

 

The other woman eyed the recorder like it was a landmine and said: “I think I would...prefer to be off the record.”

 

“That’s fine,” Bayley said as she put the device away. She was slightly disappointed but she knew that pushing on this subject would be worse that useless. When she’d looked up again, she cleared her throat and said: “Well...Dana, can I call you Dana? Thank you. Well, Dana, you reached out to me a while back. I’m guessing you having something you’d like to share?”

 

Brooke played with the olive in her martini for a few moments before she said: “I do...but there’s more. Someone else you should talk to.”

 

Bayley nodded and said: “Please share.”

 

So Dana Brooke told her story. Bayley listened and put on her professional/caring mask as she did. What she was hearing was truly monumental but she had a job to do before she could sit down and try to process it. Brooke talked for almost a full hour, enough time that both women finished their drinks and ordered another. When she’d done, Bayley was having to work to keep her eyebrows from lifting right off her face.

 

Bayley had just been handed a potential dynamite story, of that she had no doubt. But there was still an enormous amount of work to to be done. And, despite what she’d thought earlier, she was a little daunted by the prospect.

 

But one question reminded above all, now that she had this present information. What should she do with it

 

**Sasha/Charlotte**

 

In her earlier days, Sasha remembered that Bobby would put her in ‘lockdown’ in hotels.

 

This was meant very literally, he would station someone outside her door 24/7 and they would not let her leave. He’d said this was for her own good, and she’d resented it mightily. Nowadays, she wondered if Bobby had simply seen more of the truth about Sasha than she herself did.

 

Still, her days of lockdown were in the past. Meng’s policy was summarized in a simple statement: “Fuck up your own chances if you like, I get paid either way.”

 

This succinct statement aside, Sasha was enjoying the freedom. Or rather, she was taking advantage of it. Dressed in a dark hoodie, with the hood up, and wearing sunglasses despite the late hour and being inside, Sasha had slunk down to the hotel bar. The bartender was clearly used to this sort of thing, the hotel hosted many famous guests, hadn’t asked any questions.

 

So, with her drink in hand Sasha had retreated to the far corner of the deserted bar to brood. She was so focused on this that she didn’t notice that a wisp of her tell tale magenta hair had escaped her hood.

 

Once upon a time Charlotte had actually looked forward to travelling around the country for her dad’s fights. She had found riding a plane a thrill. Nowadays, she would rather just curl up at home with a guilty pleasure romance novel and a fresh squeezed orange juice. She could confidently say the magic of travel had worn out for her long ago.

 

She sat down on one of the hotel bars stools. One of the legs was slightly shorter than the others and for some reason it was all Charlotte could think about. Her drink sat nearly untouched on the bartop and her eyes stared ahead without focusing on anything.

 

For the first time in a long time Charlotte was able to simply not think of anything and clear her mind. It was rather nice.

 

Charlotte’s gaze focused on the drink in front of her. The amber liquid inside the glass staring back at her.

 

She pushed the glass away and threw a twenty dollar bill down next to the unfinished liquor.

 

The alcohol didn’t seem as enticing as it once did. She had drank with Bayley but that was out of celebration and positive emotions. If she had drank now, she would be using it the same way Becky had been. She wasn’t as far down the rabbit hole but the thought was enough to sober her up.

 

As she walked from the bar Charlotte took stock of the few people still in here this late at night. Two of the patrons had clearly just got in from a flight and had came down for a quick drink to discuss whatever boring business conference they might be here for. Come to think of it they could be here for the press conference.

 

Charlotte quickly ducked her head and avoided them just on the off chance they were. Her eyes turned away and fell on a massive banner for the new ‘Boss Rum’ that had been announced earlier that day. But while the banner had caught her attention initially the person underneath it had her change her course and steer towards the farthest and most isolated corner of the bar.

 

“Were you trying to hide? Or is this some grassroots marketing campaign?”

 

Sasha was lost in a reverie when the voice broke across her. Even before she looked up she frowned, she knew the voice and yet it was unfamiliar. Then her gaze lifted and she felt her stomach go cool.

 

“I don’t recall inviting you over...and what are you talking about?” she asked, trying to sound hostile but then finding she didn’t have the energy for it.

 

“I don’t recall needing an invite to walk on public property.” Charlotte teased with a light chuckle at Sasha rolling her eyes. “Are you telling me you sat beneath that on purpose? Because with the whole disguise thing you got going on, it seems very counter productive.”

 

“What are you-” Sasha started to ask but then followed Flair’s gaze. She found herself looking up at an enormous image of her face from the ‘Boss Rum’ photos she’d taken. “Well….fuck…” she muttered as she sat back in her chair. She knocked the rest of her drink back before she looked up at Flair and said: “Sit or go, the standing thing is weird.”

 

Charlotte was going to say something but dealing with Becky had helped her tolerance. Biting her tongue she sat down and just said. “Thanks.”

 

Sasha waved to the bartender for another before she looked covertly across the table. The last time she’d seen Charlotte Flair up close had been at her father’s funeral. Before that it had been her stunt at the blonde’s press conference. Neither of these encounters actually provided much of a conversational impetus.

 

“What are you having?” Sasha asked, deciding to take refuge in pleasantries.

 

“Just a water. Thanks.” Charlotte felt a bit awkward answering. She didn’t want to seem rude by refusing to drink with the woman but didn’t want to indulge in alcohol when Becky couldn’t.

 

Sasha regarded Flair quietly for a moment before shrugging and saying: “Between you and Lynch, it seems Boston’s drinking habits have changed a lot since when I grew up.”

 

‘If it was a warm fall day at Gillette Stadium I’d have a few. Little late for me though.” Charlotte took in the other woman and caught a few tiny glimpses of exhaustion that slipped through. “Don’t you have some places to be tomorrow?” She asked while trying to keep it from seeming like an accusation or judgement.

 

“Don’t you?” Sasha asked automatically. But she caught herself, Flair seemed to be making an effort after all. Sighing she counted to three before saying: “I’m trying to relax.”

 

Charlotte nodded. She had expected the biting comeback but was pleasantly surprised by Sasha still sticking to her attempt at being better. “Try to get some sleep if you can. This whole tour has everyone a bit exhausted.”

 

Sasha raised her eyebrows at Charlotte as she removed her sunglasses. Her eyes narrowed fractionally as she tried to work out the other woman’s angle. “Wouldn’t it be in your best interest for me to be as exhausted as possible?” she finally asked.

 

Shrugging along to the well made point, Charlotte leaned back in her chair and smiled softly at the other woman. “You aren’t the only one trying to be a better person Sasha.” She wanted to reach out and try to offer some solace to the fighter but knew that would be too much. Maybe she was crazy but Charlotte thought she could see what had made Bayley care about the deceptively brash woman so deeply.

 

Sasha was having to perform the mental equivalent of shifting without a clutch. For so long a large part of her had defined itself by her opposition to Becky Lynch, and by extension the woman sitting in front of her as well. It was...surreal to be having this almost pleasant conversation with Charlotte Flair of all people. But maybe not unpleasant.

 

“I was...AM...sorry about your pops,” Sasha said, awkwardly. It had a been long time since she’d had a conversation like this. With a social equal, not someone who was approaching her as celebrity but as another person.

 

The reminder of his passing wasn’t needed. She thought about him everyday in all the little things. Charlotte swallowed around the lump in her throat and gratefully sipped from her water. Giving herself a few seconds before replying, “Thank you. It still feels weird. Him being gone.” Charlotte looked across the table and took a deep breath. “I uhh. I’m not sure exactly how to say this but I wanted to thank you for giving Becky the address. That was… kind of you.”

 

Sasha swirled her drink absently. Part of her wanted to declare it had been a mistake, that she regretted it. And maybe on some level she did. But not enough to make it wholly true. Taking another sip she said: “It...wasn’t right for someone as good as her to go out like she was going to. Besides, your dad really did most of the work.” She took refuge in another sip before falling silent.

 

Charlotte just nodded and dropped it. She could sense Sasha was uncomfortable accepting any praise. A thought crossed her mind, forcing her to try and hide an ironic smile behind her hand but she wasn’t able to stop herself from laughing for a second. Quickly gathering herself back up and hoping the other woman wouldn’t question it.

 

Sasha frowned at this very unexpected reaction. She didn’t have to comment right away as the waiter arrived with her drink. She took a long pull before looking up at Charlotte and asking: “Care to share what’s so funny?”

 

“Sorry. I just couldn’t help it.” Charlotte started off to try and soften the blow. “You and Becky are so alike it’s honestly a bit creepy.”

 

Another waspish response leapt to Sasha’s lips but she just barely held it in. “You’d better explain that one I think,” she said tartly.

 

Charlotte grinned and shook her head. She had known the comparison would ruffle Sasha’s composure. Becky would have reacted with similar vigor. “For one, neither one of you will take credit when you actually do something nice. There always has to be some qualifier.”

 

For a moment Sasha felt a strange tug at the corner of her lip, though she squashed it quickly. “Someone I...knew...used to tell me something similar,” she said slowly. She took another drink and then regarded Charlotte with a more appraising eye for a time. Eventually she said: “ You...aren’t much like I remember you.”

 

They had only really known each other for such a short time, many years ago, that Sasha wasn’t sure if Charlotte would even remember. But Sasha had formed a lasting impression of the tall blonde girl who had haunted Ric Flair’s gym while the legend had been trying to sign Sasha. Something about Charlotte then had made Sasha feel like the other girl had been studying her, analyzing her. Truth be told a minor reason she’d chosen to go out west was because of her discomfort at this.

 

Charlotte was thrown back in time by the comment. Recalling how jealous she used to feel of the young woman her father had been gunning for. She remembered him saying similar things about Sasha that he has said when Becky came around. “It’s been a long time. I grew up. Learned some things.” Taking another sip of her water before adding, “I could say the same about you… Can I ask you a question?”

 

Sasha stared at her almost empty glass as she considered ordering another, she could the feel alcohol at work already. Maybe that was what made her say: “Sure.”

 

“I just want to know from you- from Sasha, that you’re serious about this trying to be a better person thing?” Charlotte subtly shifted into interrogation mode. It was one thing to hear her say it on stage or in an interview but Charlotte wanted to look her in the eyes and make sure.

 

Sasha shot a look at Charlotte as her eyes narrowed again. She was still trying as hard as she could to figure out what Flair’s angle might be, what advantage she might be trying to gain. But she couldn’t for the life of her. She was forced to consider the possibility that Flair might actually be curious. So with a sigh she said: “I don’t know why I’m telling you this but I don’t know. I want to, I wish I did, but...it’s...it’s...its really hard. I guess I’m learning what I should already know, it’s hard to change yourself. Even you if want to for someone- for...all the right reasons.”

 

Charlotte held her stare for a few seconds. Taking in everything that Sasha gave her. Finally she nodded and relaxed. “Thank you for that.” There was hope yet. “Helped put my mind at ease.”

 

Sasha was puzzled by the response but decided to let it go. In any case she found she had something she wanted to say now. Steeling herself she said: “I’m...really sorry about the press conference. I was...it’s not an excuse...but I was in a really...fucked up state of mind.” This was as close as she could get to saying she’d been a spoiled little bitch who had pitched a fit over Bayley’s presence in Boston.

 

“What’s done is done.” Charlotte waved it away. “Besides, I think I’m beginning to understand.” She shifted in her seat before asking an uncomfortable question. “Would you say Zelina was a part of that?” Charlotte sipped at her water and added, “Sorry. I’ve been talking with my psychiatrist a lot lately. She’s rubbing off on me.”

 

Sasha felt they might be approaching the limit of what she was willing to discuss with Flair. But then she decided that there wasn’t really anything about her relationship with Zelina that wasn’t public record anymore thanks to that little shit. So she she just said: “Everything Carmella Dale was to Becky? Zelina was to me, but with a media agenda.”

 

“Sounds like a blast to be around. You do realize you just admitted you and Becky have something in common? I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.” Charlotte let Sasha off the hook. She’d said she had come here to relax. That was enough information gathering for now.

 

“Well...I’m glad you're pleased…” Sasha muttered, feeling disgruntled and several other emotions that she couldn’t define “...Did you come over here to ask me about my personal life and motivations?”

 

“No. That was just a byproduct… I came over here for a friend.” Charlotte finished her water and stood up out of her seat. “You really should try to get some sleep.”

 

Sasha didn’t look up from her drink as she asked: “So we’re friends now?” She wasn’t even sure she knew how she wanted Flair to answer this question.

 

A tiny smile graced Charlotte’s lips. “I didn’t say you were the friend. Maybe someday… It’s been surprisingly nice talking to you Sasha. Hope you can relax soon.”

 

More than anything else in the world Sasha wanted to blurt out a question now, asking Charlotte if she knew how Bayley was. She knew the two were friends, or she’d inferred it anyway. But she was still Sasha Banks, too proud for her own good. Instead she lifted her glass and said: “Maybe, I’m still beating your girl in Vegas though.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll try your best.” Charlotte raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. “I’d wish you good luck but I’m sure you wouldn’t take it.”

 

Pushing her drink away Sasha stood, perhaps too quickly because she swayed but caught herself. She moved carefully to stand in front of Charlotte, looking up at her. They locked eyes for a long time before she said: “I forgot how tall you are.” With that, she turned and left.

 

Charlotte struggled to not smile. She couldn’t resist calling out after the woman, “You know Becky gets annoyed by how tall I am too.”

  
**Sasha/Becky/Bayley/Charlotte**

 

The alarm on Becky’s phone went off for the third time. She continued to delay heeding the warning and stayed wrapped up in a warm, safe cocoon of blankets. Even though the press conference was quickly approaching she didn’t want to get out of bed. That would require effort. Effort that she didn’t want to put in.

 

When an annoyingly constant knocking started on her door Becky only placed one of the pillows over her head and tried to block out the noise. It was probably just Charlotte anyway. Sharing a hotel room with the blonde was its own hell. She was always around and trying to get her to do something when Becky wanted to do nothing. All she wanted was to escape for some solitude but apparently that wasn’t in the cards.

 

“It’s after noon and you’re still in bed?” Becky was surprised at Alexa’s voice but didn’t let it show. “You do know you have a press conference? Or is this some form of lay in protest?”

 

“Fuck off Bliss. Not in the mood.”

 

“Are you ever?” Alexa bit back before stopping herself and taking a deep breath. “Sorry that was abrasive of me. Are you feeling alright Rebecca? Perhaps I could get you a water.”

 

Becky pulled the pillow off her face so she could stare at the tiny blonde. “What are you playin’ at?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Becky gestured with her hand up and down. “All this. Sayin’ sorry, asking about me, offerin’ to get me somethin’. Did your programmer make a mistake in the coding?”

 

Alexa tried to not let the redhead’s words get to her, but she unknowingly hit a sore spot. “If I’d known you were still being an ass I wouldn’t have volunteered to come get you.”

 

Slowly Becky got out of bed. Straightening the rumpled clothes she hadn’t bothered to take off after the flight and ignoring Alexa for the time being.

 

“Just so you know the whole ‘I don’t care what I look like’ thing… Not really working out for you.”

 

Becky continued to ignore Alexa and ran a hand through her hair in a losing war to try and straighten it out a bit. She ended up giving up and walked to the elevator in silence. The steady click of Alexa’s heels the only sign she was following.

 

Alexa tried to engage Becky several times during the ride down but the redhead was having none of it. Pulling a pair of dark aviator sunglasses out of her jacket and donning them. The blonde might as well have not been there.

 

A shrill ding announced their arrival in the lobby and right before the doors opened Alexa watched in awe as the fighter suddenly seemed to be standing a little taller. Grinning a little wider than she had seen before. If she hadn’t known any better Alexa would assume that this woman was on top of the world.

 

“Alright. It’s showtime.” Becky said before exiting the metal box and leaving behind everything but ‘The Man’.

 

Sasha was staring into the mirror in her suite, struggling with a decision. She was due down at the press conference in less than thirty minutes and yet here she was. One fist clenched so hard that it shook with anger. Looking over at her phone she had to work hard to force herself not fling it against the wall.

 

Sasha had awoken that morning to the news that Zelina had been on yet another show.  As usual she’d been discussing their relationship, this time going even further in depth on their sexual history. This would have been enough to annoy Sasha in any case, but it was the addition that Zelina had made that had her livid.

 

The little bitch had asserted that Sasha had been having an ‘emotional affair’ with another woman and that she was prepared to release the details. The skank had even managed to ‘choke up’ while discussing it. Of course, no such thing had happened, Sasha had been so emotionally numb she hadn’t even been invested in her main relationship, much less another clandestine one.

 

But it was the fact that whole world seemed to be taking Zelina at her word. A quick glance on twitter confirmed this. No one gave a shit that Sasha had been trying so hard, no one cared. They all wanted to believe she was a monster. She’d let herself be deluded by her interaction with Flair the night before, that she actually was making progress. She’d been a fool.

 

Adding to this sense of outrage was the fact that she had yet to hear back from Bayley, not even a single sign. If ONE person should have cared about how hard she was trying, it should have been the reporter. Hadn’t she once told Sasha that in stuff like this effort lay in merit?

 

Apparently not.

 

Add to this that she was hungover, she’d continued her drinking after getting back to her room, and Sasha was just done with the whole thing. She was staring into the mirror full of anger and frustration at a world she thought wasn’t treating her fairly. A world that seemed to hate her even as it demanded she entertain it. Sasha was staring into a mirror, but the Boss was looking back.

 

With a low growl Sasha looked around her room. Her eyes fell on several items, and an idea formed. An idea that was far from something that a ‘better’ person would do. But god it would feel good. She didn’t even hesitate, she grabbed them, checked her hair, and stormed out of her suite.

 

“Ready to go?” Meng asked her, not reacting to her visibly upset state.

 

“Fuck yes I am,” Sasha snarled as she stomped toward the elevator.

 

She steadfastly ignored all efforts to speak to her in the elevator and on the way to the backstage area. Even brushing off cheery greetings from Kairi Sane and Teddy. She was losing herself in the almost narcotic experience of using her temper as a shield. She was feeling alive now, the sense of invincibility that came with being the Boss was as good as any drug she’d ever done.

 

When they reached the backstage area Sasha ignored the directions the hotel staffer was giving and settled herself in a nearby chair, her phone out. She was blitzing her instagram with photos and was even contemplating a live video when Lynch arrived.

 

Becky made it to the backstage area with plenty of time to spare. A fact she had not resisted rubbing into Alexa’s face.

 

She spotted Sasha nearby and her strut somehow got even cockier than it already was. Making sure she had the other fighter’s attention before blowing her a kiss and winking cheekily.

 

Sasha made a dismissive waving gesture with her fingers before beckoning one of Teddy’s people over. She whispered some instructions to him before sending him scurrying. Sitting further back in her chair Sasha smirked in a way she hadn’t done for weeks. It was good to be the queen bitch.

 

Becky laughed and turned her back on the other woman. A burning desire to step out on that stage setting in. The feel of it was indescribable. It was addicting and Becky needed another fix.

 

“Hey ya’ll, this the motha fucking BOSS ‘bout to go and show the world who runs this bitch!” Sasha said into her phone. Ending the short recording she posted it and then turned to watch as Shane McMahon appeared with his entourage.

 

Shane was beaming as well he might. One look at the two fighters told him that he’d gotten everything he’d been hoping for and more. Clapping his hand together he turned to Becky and said: “The world wants to see the Man! Go show’em!”

 

Becky raised an eyebrow at Shane’s exuberance. She chuckled lowly at a joke only she knew and walked past the McMahon without bothering to acknowledge him. “Hold onto these for me.” She said before taking off her sunglasses and throwing them towards Sasha. Making sure to give the champ a fake smile when the glasses clattered to the ground. Sasha having not even made an attempt to catch them. “Such a doll.” Making sure that the other woman saw her pull out Sasha’s trademark glasses and slipping them on before moving out of the curtain and soaking in the cheers.

 

She walked towards her seat but bypassed it entirely and sat down in the seat Sasha was assigned to. Becky took off the glasses and snapped them in half before tossing them into the crowd and eyeing the shiny title belt that sat on display in front of her.

 

As she waited for Sasha to come out the Irish woman just grabbed the belt and held it high. The raucous crowd had came for a show. Becky was happy to oblige.

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes at Becky’s first words, and they almost disappeared when she saw the second set of glasses the other fighter had. But she kept her cool and affected not to care. She had something bigger planned. She heard the roar from the stage and ignored that as well. She was focused as she picked up the box she’d brought with her.

 

“Playa, you got a-” Teddy started to say but Sasha cut him off with a hand. She didn’t even speak, just waited for the speakers in the hall to begin booming out the opening bass of “Satisfaction” by Eve, her walk out song, before standing.

 

When she emerged through the curtain it was to a wall of noise and light. So many flashes were going off that it almost made her sunglasses necessary. As soon as she cleared the curtain Sasha strutted to the edge of the stage and paused. She let it stretch for five whole seconds before she held up hands, showing off her trademark rings. She held this pose to before she brought her hands out to her side and waved away the haters, making sure to transition one hand into a middle finger aimed at Lynch.

 

The cameras popped for this one, as she’d known they would. But she wasn’t done, moving with perfectly insolent deliberation, Sasha slowly swayed her hips and hit her boss pose. Something she hadn’t done for a long time. But the media loved it. Sasha knew they all expected her to sit down now but she wasn’t ready to stop playing.

 

Instead of finding her seat, now occupied by Lynch in any case, Sasha strode down the steps leading down from the stage and out into the crowd. She walked as though she were an empress among subjects, but she made sure to give everyone ample time to photograph and film her every step. Stopping by where Zach Ryder was sitting with his phone up, Sasha snatched it out of his hands and turned it onto her face.

 

“Take a look at this face! You see me? You hear me? This is mother fucking greatness! Never before or again, this is the Boss and ain’t nobody got SHIT on me,” she said before tossing the phone aside carelessly. Prancing back down to stand in front of the stage, Sasha once again raised her hands to show off her hardware. The paying attendees were going wild now as she hit her boss pose once more.

 

Sasha milked the reaction for it was worth before remounting the stage and retrieving her box from where she’d left it. Only then did she stride across to the open seat, giving no sign that she knew or cared that Becky was in the one assigned to her. But she stopped and gave an exaggerated frown as she looked down at the simple chair. She beckoned to the curtain and the man she’d sent away appeared with another of Teddy’s crew. They were carrying one of the overstuffed arm chairs from the lobby and as they approached Sasha contemptuously kicked the first chair aside.

 

Turning to the crowd she shouted: “If it’s good enough for that bitch, it doesn’t deserve me!” She emphasized this by jabbing a finger at Becky. When this was done she settled herself back into the chair with all the air of a queen on her throne.

 

Becky leered over at the stunt with amusement. She grabbed the mic from its stand and leaned back in her chair. “You know I really try to listen to you, but I damn near fall asleep everytime. Get some new material. You’re going to need it after I snap that arm of yours like a twig and show you last fight was a fluke.”

 

Sasha simply sat quietly in response to this. She did this for so long that Shane had to prompt her saying: “Sasha?”

 

“Oh? Was someone speaking? All I saw was shitty copy of me out here…” Sasha sneered before turning to face Becky and adding: “...But it’s OK sweetie, really I understand. You came out here trying to be me because who would WANT to be you? You’ve gotten so comfortable back there picking up after me, I understand.” She said this with a smile so sweet that it might kill a diabetic.

 

It took Becky a second to snap back. Her left eye twitched but that was the only outward sign of how hard Sasha’s words had struck. “I was you for thirty seconds and I wanted to hurl. Must be hard getting anyone to stick around. I can really empathize with your gal.”

 

“For thirty seconds you were the best in the world? The champ? A pop culture icon? Yeah I can see why you wouldn’t be able to handle that Becky. Don’t worry, it was cute watching you try. Now a grown up is here,” Sasha shot back instantly.

 

“A grown up you say!” Becky made a show of looking around the room. “Where? All I see is a girl playing dress up and trying to act like badass. I’m just here to bring you back down to earth. I’m doing you a favor, really.”

 

Sasha gave a girlish titter at this as she spoke in a musing tone: “I’m a little girl playing dress up huh?”

 

“Having trouble hearing?” Becky shot back.

 

“So….” Sasha said as she placed a finger tip on her chin “...You got embarrassed by a little girl playing dress up, lost your title to her, and have spent the last year of your life trying desperately to catch her? Yeah that sounds about right.”

 

“I’m not here to simply catch you lass. I’m here to break yer face and get paid to do it. If we could I’d love to just have the fight now.” Becky said knowing it would get the crowd to cheer. It was almost too easy. “But I’m sure you don’t want that. Wouldn’t want the world to see you get smacked upside the head for free. They gotta pay for that.”

 

“LADIES! Please. I think we all understand your animosity but this was meant to be a press conference. These hard working journalists came out here to ask some questions so why don’t we let them.” Shane broke in with a wide smile on his face the whole time.

 

It was on the tip of Sasha’s tongue to call Shane out on his hypocritical bullshit right there, but she knew he could still make her life difficult. So she just settled in to her chair, very ostentatiously putting her feet up on the table in front of her.

 

“First question?” Shane called, he peered at the forest of raised hands and pointed to a man in the first row.

 

“Sasha, Becky, to say the tone of your press conferences has changed since London would be an understatement, any comment on what caused this change?” he asked.

 

Becky smiled wide. “I got bored. String bean over there is a fun one to piss off though. Keepin’ me busy she is.”

 

Sasha checked her nails before saying: “Isn’t this what you want? Are you not entertained? I did everything I could to try and play by the rules but ya’ll basically told me to fuck off for doing that. So you know what? My turn to tell YOU all to go fuck off. I’m the Boss and you’re nobody, get used to it.”

 

Bayley hadn’t been quite sure how to feel as she’d entered the hall. She’d covered over a hundred press conferences and yet she was a nervous wreck. She knew why of course, this was the first time she’d been anywhere near Becky since her voicemail. And the first time with Sasha since the funeral. Both the women who would be on the stage had devastated her at different times in her life.

 

Facing both, even if they probably wouldn’t know she was there, was daunting.

 

Ordinarily, Bayley joined the scrum of reporters trying to get closer to the stage though she preferred to stand along the side of rooms rather than sit. This allowed her to leave quickly if she needed to. And today she was very grateful for this habit. Watching Becky’s antics Bayley knew it would have been hard for her to stay even if she’d been on the best possible terms with the other woman. But if she’d found Becky painful, that was nothing on Sasha.

 

Bayley felt like she could cry. But it would have been in anger at herself. She’d allowed herself the absurd hope that the Sasha she’d seen on TV, the one who seemed to be trying, was real. That maybe, this new Sasha could be someone she could reach out to. That there was some minute chance that they could...but it didn’t matter now. The woman she’d loved was gone, lost to the Boss forever.

 

Bayley kept her face a stony mask as she watched the first few questions. Only small part of her brain was analyzing what she was seeing as a reporter. Most of her being was longing to be somewhere else, anywhere else. Yet, like watching a wreck, she found herself unwillingly transfixed. So much so that she didn’t even jump when she felt a hand on her arm.

 

Charlotte watched the farce on stage and felt a sense of deja vu. The previous two press conferences had been a steady escalation in the verbal attacks. It was beyond frustrating standing there and not being able to do anything. The show was well underway and it looked like Sasha had decided to fight Becky’s fire with some of her own.

 

There had been hints that Becky’s incessant trolling had been getting to Sasha. Glimpses of the Boss had became more frequent but this was the first time she had came out swinging. Charlotte had tried to talk with Becky about toning it down but had been met with a cold shoulder and petulance for the next day.

 

Charlotte had been hopeful after their late night talk last night. She hadn’t expected anything of it at first but she had begun to see Sasha as a person. It wasn’t heartbreaking or devastating but it wasn’t pleasant watching Sasha come out and say what she had. But she saw someone who it would hurt quite a bit more.

 

The blonde made her way slowly down the aisle from the exit door she had been standing next to and laid a gentle hand on the Bayley’s arm to get her attention. Offering a bit of comfort during what she knew must be an uncomfortable moment to say the least. She spoke so that only Bayley could hear her, “You good?”

 

Bayley didn’t look back or even move. When she spoke it was in an oddly mechanical voice, as though she were delivering a line she didn’t care about. “It doesn’t matter does it?” she said as bitter resignation filled her heart. “No matter what I do, this always happens,” she added to herself.

 

Charlotte wished they weren’t in public right now. She also wished that what was happening on stage was something imagined but neither were in the cards for her. Instead she slid next to Bayley and just stood next to her. Silently trying to offer what strength she could even though she was also finding it difficult to stay here and watch. “...This really sucks.”

 

“Why are we surprised?” Bayley asked, a note of bleakness finding its way into her robots voice.

 

“Because we know they’re both better than this.” Charlotte offered and snuck her arm around Bayley’s shoulders to give her a small squeeze while everyone was focused on the stage.

 

Back on the stage, Sasha and Becky were both shouting over each other. The question had been if they had any comment about the growing perception that they were poor role models. It had been a flashpoint for both women.

 

“I never fucking said I was damn role model! I’m the best in the world at what I do and that-” Sasha said as she leaned forward and slapped the table.

 

“I didn’t get in this to be a role model. It’s fighting. Whatever moron allows their child to look up to a fighter deserves what they get.” Becky hated agreeing with Sasha but the question bugged her deeply. She wasn’t a role model. She and maybe even Sasha were a bedtime story told to children so that they’d avoid making the same mistakes.

 

“You know what? Fuck this, you’re joke dude...yeah you!...” Sasha said as she glared at the reporter “...I ain’t saying another damn word as long you’re here. Go on...get out!”

 

The helpless reporter looked around the room for support, and there was a low muttering from the assembled media. But all eyes naturally turned to Shane, who was notionally moderating the event. It was obvious he had to work hard to keep a grin from his face as he simple held up both palms as though to say ‘out of my hands’. Finding no assistance in the room, the shame faced reporter cast one more look at his colleagues.

 

“No! Don’t look at them, the Boss just said get the fuck out of her press conference!” Sasha snapped. Without any recourse the humiliated man edged along his row and left the room.

 

Becky watched on in amusement. “What a bitch. I kind of wanted him to stay just to see if Sasha could actually stay quiet. How sad.”

 

“This ho thinks she’s funny doesn’t she?...” Sasha asked the room, knowing how much ignoring Becky had gotten under her skin at the last presser “...Well she got jokes but I got quotes. Who’s got a real damn question?”

 

A well dressed man near the middle of the pack of reporters stood up. Flanked by two dressed similarly people. A man who was carrying a camera on his shoulder and a woman holding a clipboard. They fit in well amongst the crowd. “I have a question for both of you. What gives you the right to sit on that dias and spout such filth? Both of you have a special place in hell for your list of sins.”

 

The man and woman flanking him dropped their respective props and began to shout over the low murmur of the crowd. “FILTH! RAPIST! CORRUPTERS!” Pulling out what appeared to be water balloons and hurling them towards the stage. Both women on stage and Shane immediately jumping up when the first balloon hit. Landing in between Becky and Shane and showering the curtain behind them with a brown liquid paint.

 

Becky dodged another and yelled into her mic. “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME?!?! Someone get those fuckin’ eejits out of here before I come out there and do it for ya.”

 

Sasha had been a hair faster than Becky simply because she’d had things thrown at her more recently. Backpedalling from the table she looked around for something to throw back. Finding only plastic water pitcher on the table she darted back, scooped it up, and sent it soaring toward the shouting group. She followed this by stalking over to the stage stairs.

 

“You wanna do this you shit heads? Fine! We can do this!” she shouted, showing every sign of storming into the crowd until several pairs of strong hands grabbed her from behind.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” she heard Meng’s voice snarl in her ear. But she was barely listening as she struggled to break their grasp. Unfortunately this made them a large stationary target and they were struck by a balloon a moment later. Sasha didn’t catch all of it but she got enough.

 

“Security! Get them out of here!” Shane was shouting as Meng, Titus, and several others finally managed to pull Sasha back onto the stage.

 

Becky had avoided the balloons and turned to look over at Sasha. Laughing loudly when she got splattered with some of the paint. The moment of distraction was enough for her to miss the balloon sailing directly at her and exploded against her hip.

 

She took a second to look down at the brown paint that covered her side before her anger got the better of her and she jumped off the stage while everyone was still focused on Sasha. “Yer all dead!” She shouted and started to move up the aisle but was quickly wrapped up in a bear hug by Bobby. One of the only people capable of actually halting her in such a rage without the risk of her being able to turn on them.

 

“You aren’t doing this Becky. You’re getting back on stage this instant. Let security handle it.”

 

Becky flailed in his grip even though she knew there would be no escaping without actually hurting the much larger man. A few other people gathered around in case Lashley couldn’t keep his hold on her but he waved them off. She was barely tolerating him touching her right now. It would be a bad idea for some random security she didn’t know to try and wrangle her.

 

Slowly but surely he was able to get her back on stage. The crowd that had already been salivating at the two women going back and forth now was wondering what would happen next. The entire atmosphere seemed to have shifted from the past press conferences and the tension had only increased.

 

Bayley had obviously heard the phrase ‘acting like an animal’. But she’d never seen it more perfectly exemplified than what she was watching. Both Sasha and Becky did indeed look like chained beasts, complete with the teams of handlers trying to keep them from leaping on bystanders. Her eyes were on Becky in particular, marvelling that a man mountain like Bobby Lashley could be struggling so much to restrain her.

 

She swallowed very hard, every second she watched of this felt like it killed a small part of her soul. She was seriously wondering if it was even worth it keep her stringer job at ESPN for this. Had it not been for Charlotte behind her she might have just left. But somehow, knowing that the blonde was enduring it, made Bayley think she had too as well. She owed Charlotte.

 

“I don’t even..I don’t know what to say…” she said. Her voice was no longer flat and toneless, instead it more like one a person might use after seeing a horrific tragedy at a distance. Which, in a way, she had.

 

Charlotte wanted to respond but any words felt like empty platitudes. For a few seconds all she could do was watch the insanity below and every second sucked more than the last. She contemplated just leaving but she couldn’t force herself to. “How the hell were they allowed in here?” She said aloud more to herself than anything.

 

Bayley, who’s mind had been wandering down it’s own dark path, asked: “How did I let this happen?” She asked it in the same shell shocked voice she’d used before.

 

“What?” Charlotte swiftly responded turning to look at Bayley and seeing the anguish written on her face. “Bayley… You didn’t let this happen. Don’t go down that road.” Charlotte looked back towards the stage and frowned deeply. “It won’t help anything. It’ll just make it harder… You and I both know that.”

 

Bayley didn’t respond, instead she just watched. Over the next few minutes the two fighters fielded more questions with responses that ranged from very rude to openly hostile. Yet it seemed the worst of their aggression was being saved for each other. Not a question went by that both women didn’t take a chance to land a blow or two on her opponent. And with each one Bayley found it harder and harder to stay.

 

Part of her was surprised by this. She hadn’t really had meaningful contact with Sasha for a very long time. Yet here she was feeling just as though someone she cared deeply for was doing themselves irreparable harm. And that she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Worse, a woman she’d once thought of as one of her best friends was there committing figurative seppuku right alongside Sasha.

 

After a particular nasty exchange full of barely concealed shots at each other’s sexual history, an exchange where she could almost feel Charlotte tensing behind her. Bayley asked her friend quietly: “Did we fail them?”

 

Charlotte wished she could say no, but knew it would be a lie. At least on her end. She couldn’t speak entirely for Bayley in regards to Sasha. “I don’t know. No matter how much we’ve done it all comes down to them. They have to want to be more than this… Then they have to actually think it’s possible. I’m not sure they have the second one.”

 

What Charlotte said was eminently logical. She was persuasive and Bayley didn’t doubt her conviction for one second. And she might as well have been conversing with the wall next to them for all the change it wrought in Bayley. She knew she’d never forgive herself, convinced that she could have done something along the way to help prevent this.

 

“Since this is your fifth press conference together in a little more than a week have either of your opinions on the other changed?”

 

The question was quickly fielded by Becky. “Ya know, at first I thought she was just a bit thick. But after spending so much time in the lovely ladies presence I realized I was wrong. She’s actually completely thick in the head. Sometimes I’m not sure if anythin’s happenin’ in that skull o’ hers.”

 

Sasha gave an affected giggle as she pulled her mic toward her. “When we began this press tour I thought Rebecca might just be poor little girl who was struggling. Overrated, washed up, and past her time but struggling. Now I know she’s all those things, a drunk, thirsty ass ho, and boring as hell.” She started to push the mic away before pulling it back and speaking in a mocking version of Becky’s accent: “Oi yahhh she’s ‘thick’ too.”

 

“Wow! Such tough words from such a sweet looking girl. That’s a lot for you to choke on after I beat you. I’ll be sure to send some well wishes your way.”

 

“Wait didn’t you already do that once?...” Sasha asked as she put on a thoughtful expression “...Ohhhh that’s right, I made you tap like a bitch. So all I’m hearing is noise from you firecrotch.” As she said this Sasha turned to look directly at Becky for almost the first time during the presser.

 

“If you want I could stop talking and come tear that shitty weave right off your head.” Becky shrugged and slowly stood up. Speaking into her mic, “Or are you still the coward who only took fights you knew you’d win like Paige, or takes the easy way out like with Natalya?”

 

Sasha was glad she still had her glasses on now because Lynch had placed her knife exactly where it would hurt most. But she’d prepared for this response the night before s she was ready with: “Real clever, but it wasn’t like the division had anything left for me? Weren’t you crawled up inside a bottle for most of that time?”

 

Charlotte watched on with disgust as the insults turned more and more personal. They hadn’t been shy in the previous pressers but it seemed as if both had mutually decided to throw away whatever filters they had been holding onto. She couldn’t be sure but each time Sasha mentioned Becky’s alcohol issues she felt like she was flinching. But the flinching wasn’t from the words themselves, it was from the unnerving calmness that Becky took them with.

 

“There’s no way this ends well.” Charlotte spoke with certainty. She yearned to go down there and shut down the conference before the bubbling volcanoes on stage decided to erupt. “I hate this.”

 

Bayley couldn’t do more but nod. The two fighters had obviously discarded any pretense that they were here to talk about their fight. This was nothing more than two kids slinging insults on the playground. And Bayley hated having to watch it. So she didn’t, instead she chose to look past the fighters to the other people on the stage.

 

Anger boiled inside her as she watched Shane McMahon. His expression of concern wouldn't have fooled the dimmer sort of child, and she knew the man was probably already deciding how many of stupid sneakers he’d buy with the proceeds from the fight. Bayley wasn’t someone whose character inclined toward enmity, as many would attest. But she found she hated the man right now. Hated how he was loving every second of this, and how shamelessly he was profiting from the destruction in front of him.

 

Forcing her eyes away from McMahon, Bayley studied the others on stage, standing in the wings. Initially, no one else had been on stage but it had obviously been decided by both camps that they needed people in position to try and restrain their fighters should it become necessary again.

 

Bobby Lashley was standing with his massive arms folded and an unreadable expression a few feet behind Becky. He was obviously tense and ready to spring again. Beside him, almost cast in shadow by his bulk, were Liv and Ruby. Both women were looking extremely concerned/uncomfortable by what they were seeing and hearing.

 

Behind Sasha stood her trainer, Meng Fifita. He wasn’t doing as good job as Lashley at hiding his obvious disgust and contempt for what was happening. Bayley had seen him having heated discussions with Titus O’Neil, a Thuggin and Buggin aide, while gesticulating toward Shane. Bayley wondered if he had been trying to call a halt to the presser.

 

“I feel...so sorry...for Liv and Ruby,” Bayley said, as she looked away from the stage.

 

Charlotte nodded before replying. “This whole situation is unfair. It’s taking a toll on all of us, but Liv and Ruby don’t deserve to be caught up in this. I wish I knew what to say… what to do. But I’m running out of ideas.”

 

“This is…” Bayley started to say but had to pause to try and summon any anger she could “...Pathetic...disgusting.” She stoked the fires as much as she could within her, hoping that if she could convince Charlotte she was shielded by anger, then she might believe it too.

 

“It is…” Charlotte agreed. She allowed Bayley her anger. The blonde knew that underneath she was deeply hurt by what they were watching. She was too. “Makes me wish I didn’t care and could just be entertained like all these people. Would be a lot easier.”

 

Bayley couldn’t help but agree. But this brought a fresh wave of disgust to her, looking at the paying attendees, the fans who had come for exactly this. Bayley was revolted by the idea, people urging two women to self destruct for their entertainment. The same people who would forget about them the second something new and shiny came along.

 

But, as always, anger just wasn’t the fuel of Bayley’s spirit. She deflated quickly, though the disgust lingered. Without looking back she asked: “Charlotte?”

 

Charlotte looked away from the stage and towards the ceiling. Closing her eyes to try and calm herself. “Yeah?”

 

“I hate this…” Bayley said quietly.

 

Charlotte silently reached down with her hand and grabbed onto Bayley’s. Giving a gentle squeeze and answered without looking. “I know… Me too.”

 

Bayley carried on as though she’d never stopped speaking: “...And I’m worried that if I stay here...I’m going to start hating them too.”

 

There was no real answer that Charlotte could come up with. So instead she only offered, “I understand. If you need to leave…” Charlotte didn’t say anymore. Bayley knew what she meant.

 

The reporters in the room had begun to split into two unofficial camps, those that were enjoying what they were seeing, and those that were uncomfortable. It was one from the latter camp that stood next. Later on, Bayley would wonder if he’d actually hoped this question might defuse some of the tension in the room. If he had, he’d been desperately mistaken.

 

“This question is for Becky first and then Sasha, is there anything about your opponent that you respect?”

 

Becky scoffed at the question. “You talk about respect like it matters. We’re going to get into a cage and beat each other up. Where does respect enter the equation? I have nothing but contempt for Sasha. If I had to answer your question I would say I respect her choice in women. Zelina might be crazy but she’s easy on the eyes. Beyond that, I’ve got nothing. She’s got my belt and I want it. Don’t need respect to punch her in the face.” Throwing the mic back down onto the table and rolling her eyes at the reporter.

 

Sasha chuckled softly to herself for a few moments at this speech, knowing it would piss off Lynch. But then she schooled her face into an expression of hurt as she slowly drew the box she’d brought toward her. She sensed that now was the time for her big move. Standing slowly she lifted her glasses and raised a hand to point at Becky.

 

“I’m sorry Becky said that because….I respect this woman…” she said, and as she’d expected she was greeted with a forest of raised phones and a loud murmuring.

 

Becky made a show of holding back laughter before it burst out of her. “That’s a good one. I mean really, I think you’ve found your true calling as a comedian. Least now you have a career path after the fight.”

 

“No no…” Sasha said, in a voice full of mock sincerity “...I really do.” As she said this she slowly opened the box but didn’t take out it’s contents as she stepped toward Becky. “I am absolutely impressed with you on a few things.”

 

She stopped within arms reach of Becky before sitting on the table next to her. Looking down into the other woman’s glaring eyes. Sasha was feeling an old thrill now, the thrill of being a tiger that had at last cornered it’s prey. But it was all the better for the fact that the prey didn’t even know it.

 

“I am impressed…” she said “...by your ability to poison a whole team, CCS, and leave them crashing. I’m impressed that you’ve fucked your way through half the women anywhere near this sport and yet haven't ONCE found someone who can tolerate you for more than a night. I’m impressed, that you hauled your drunk ass out of bed without managing to fall off the wagon two times on the way down here. And I am SO impressed by how you’ve found a new place to be a cancer. Whose life are you going to ruin in Boston….BECKY? So here’s to you ‘the Man’.”

 

Sasha said this last as she drew a bottle of her new ‘Boss Rum’ out of the box. She tore the plastic off the top and uncorked it with her teeth. She took a long drink from it before letting her voice go arctic as she said: “Why don’t we celebrate with a drink!” She said this as she slowly extended her arm and proceeded to start dumping the contents of the bottle on Becky’s head.

 

It took a second for Becky to process what Sasha just did. Sputtering as the liquor dripped down her face and some of it inadvertently got in her mouth and nose. Burning like the fire that the other woman might as well have poured gasoline on.

 

She took her time standing up as Sasha continued to adjust her arm and pour the rest of the contents over her. Shaking the bottle to get the last few drops out. When it was finally done Becky casually wiped the liquid from her eyes. Making sure to smile at Sasha for a brief moment before springing into action and tackling her off the table. Even hitting the stage hard didn’t stop them from swinging at each other and hitting whatever they could.

 

The flutter of camera’s going off filled the room. Most members of the audience were so shocked by the turn of events that they didn’t know how to react.

 

“YOU’RE FECKIN DEAD!” Becky screamed while they continued to roll. Each trying to gain an advantage but finding everything they attempted quickly countered. A virtual stalemate where neither woman considered losing an option.

 

Sasha had been hoping to provoke exactly this reaction and even as Becky hit her, she was grinning. Finally, something she knew how to do. A problem she could address with the best parts of herself, her fists and feet. Though she made no real progress in the actual fight, she and Becky were simply too evenly matched, for the first time in forever….Sasha felt at home. Though she knew it couldn’t last.

 

Even as she finally succeeded in getting hold of a handful of Becky’s hair, she could already feel hands grabbing her legs. Nonetheless a stiff left to the temple opened up small opening in the Irish woman’s nearly impenetrable guard. Sasha was fully intending to hammer the weakness into pulp when a jerk by the strong hands on her forced her vision to the right, out over the crowd.

 

Bayley had endured all she could. The professional consequences be damned, she couldn’t do this any longer. It hurt too much to see people she had to admit that she cared about destroying each other and themselves. Turning quickly she ignored Charlotte’s hand on her arm and started walking quickly toward the back of the hall, her head straight down.

 

Charlotte felt the other woman pull away and watched her walk towards the exit. She was torn between running down to the stage herself and following Bayley. When she saw Bobby once again move to grab Becky her choice was made. She wasn’t ready to deal with this right now. Not professionally, and certainly not personally. As much as she had been trying to be the strong one and show Bayley the support she earned Charlotte felt like shit too.

 

With one final look at the chaos unfolding below the tall blonde turned on her heel and left after the brunette. It was too hard to just stand and watch this unfold.

 

Bayley was determined to not look at or speak to anyone. She brushed right past several media member she knew, some of whom greeted her. All she wanted to do was get out of this room, get to her car, and just go home. But something stopped her in the doorway, just long enough to turn back once more to look at the melee on the stage.

 

Sasha caught a fleeting glimpse of a woman leaving the room, she was about to look away when she saw it. Silhouetted against the light coming into the room from the lobby, she saw the side pony. She only knew one adult who wore one. Though the glare made it impossible for her to see details she saw the figure (which she assumed was Bayley) turn back to look at the stage. And despite the impossibility of it, Sasha suddenly knew to a conviction that Bayley was wearing an expression of absolute sadness.

 

It was like someone had let the air out of a balloon. Suddenly all the fight left her and she sagged where she was. She got tagged several times for doing so but she hardly noticed, nor did she notice when she was hauled bodily backward and away from Becky. All she could focus on was the now empty doorway.

 

Becky had just been about to take advantage of Sasha’s sudden lapse in concentration when she felt a familiar pair of massive arms grab hold of her and haul her backwards.

 

“Let go of me!” She cried out as she stared over at Sasha with hate in her eyes. She unconsciously followed the other woman’s gaze and for just a split second she thought she saw a familiar ponytail near the exit before it vanished from view.

 

That alone was enough to give her pause but the sight of blonde hair moving towards the exit captured her attention.

 

She knew it was Charlotte. Even in a crowd Becky would be able to pick out that blonde skyscraper.

 

Becky waited for Charlotte to do what she always did. Look back at her in disappointment and she would in turn shrug away the criticism. Instead Charlotte never did that. She walked out of the auditorium without looking back.

 

Becky had gotten complacent. She expected Charlotte to always come back no matter what… But she had expected that with Bayley too…

 

It was almost like a switch had shut off and Becky’s body suddenly felt like it was made of lead. She hardly noticed as Bobby and Ruby pulled her away.

 

She wished she could blame Sasha for feeling this way but it wasn’t her fault. Not hers alone at least. This was the hole Becky had dug for herself. Sasha looked to be too busy digging her own.

 

For half a moment Sasha’s eyes found Becky’s and somehow she knew then that the Irish fighter had no more fire left in her than Sasha herself did. But then a body got between them and Sasha sunk into a gloomy reflection. She only barely heard Shane McMahon shouting something, as though from a great distance. The many voices speaking to her, or at her, were just so much static.

 

Then only thing left to her now was the most powerful sense of shame she’d ever felt in her life. It was so intense that she could feel herself crying, something she NEVER did in public. It took until she backstage for her team to realize she wasn’t fighting anymore. But as soon as they let her go, she turned and actually ran for the elevators, ignoring every effort to call her back.

 

For the first time in over a week ‘The Man’ took a back seat and Becky was back in control on stage. It was like waking up from a horrible nightmare but knowing that she had actually lived it.

 

Bobby had set her down after running her backstage and Becky had automatically begun to walk alongside him. Liv and Ruby trailing behind with concern written all over their faces.

 

If Bobby hadn’t been steering her with hand on shoulder Becky wasn’t sure where she would have ended up. She had no idea where she was going.

 

They brought her to one of the private rooms backstage and no one knew what to say. Becky didn’t either. So she just sat down on the couch and drew her knees up against her chest. Staring blankly at one of the walls and ignoring any attempt to get her to talk.

 

One of them made the mistake of asking her if she ‘was alright’. She wasn’t even sure exactly who said it but the words set her off. Or maybe it had been inevitable once Becky had time to process.

 

She had stood up and grabbed the closest thing next to her that had some weight. Which just so happened to be a remote for the flat screen on the wall. Chucking the plastic remote towards the mirror and shattering it.

 

Ruby got up and pushed Liv towards the door. The floor was covered in glass and she glared at Becky. “What the hell Becky?”

 

Becky didn’t bother answering. Shattering the mirror had felt good. Making something as broken as she felt helped chase away the reality for a few moments.

 

Bobby saw her picking up one of the chairs and was just able to intercept it before she swung it into the television. “Don’t do this Becky. I know you’re upset-”

 

Before he could say another word Becky violently ripped the chair from his grasp and swung it against the wall. Creating a large hole in the drywall and ripping the legs of the chair off.

 

“Can you guys leave us alone for a minute?”

 

Liv turned around and stared at the blonde who had appeared in the doorway. A skeptical look on her face as she replied, “Why would we do that Alexa? Doesn’t she kind of…” Liv was hesitant to say it. Biting her lip before looking over her shoulder Becky and whispering so she wouldn’t hear, “...hate you?”

 

Ruby and Bobby silently agreed with the sentiment and patiently waited for her answer.

 

“We have… A complicated friendship.” Alexa said to the disbelieving stares of the others in the room. “Seriously. None of you are helping matters. Just give me a minute.”

 

“Alright.” Bobby spoke up. Ruby and Liv turning to give him a disbelieving look. Bobby didn’t notice the glares, far too busy looking deep into Alexa’s eyes.

 

Becky frowned on the other side of the room. Breaking the chair had made her feel in control but it quickly was getting out of her hands again.

 

Her trainer ushered two of the women out of the room and left Becky alone with Alexa.

 

“What the fuck do you want?” The redhead was trying her hardest to speak confidently but she knew it was embarrassingly easy to see through. Try as she might she couldn’t summon any of the walls that helped allow her to fall back into her old self. Hating herself for being unable to stop shaking in front of the tiny blonde.

 

Alexa took a deep breath. Taking everything she had learned about this woman and her lessons with Bayley into consideration. “And I thought I was a bitch.” Ok… Maybe that wasn’t exactly what Bayley had taught her, but she needed a different approach with Becky right now.

 

Becky rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Glad to know I could outdo you. Makes me feel all warm inside.”

 

“Listen, I know I’m not the person you really want to be talking too-”

 

“Whatever would give you that idea?” Becky sarcastically asked.

 

Alexa continued as if the redhead hadn’t interrupted her. “But I have to tell you that if you keep this bullshit attitude up everyone’s going to leave you.”

 

The words hit Becky like a cannon. Taking the air right out of lungs and rendering her speechless. It was almost like Alexa knew what she was feeling beneath all the bluster. “What’s it to ya? Maybe I want to be alone. Cut off all the fat draggin’ me down.”

 

“Do you?” Alexa bluntly asked. “Do you really want to be alone? Just say the word. I’m sure Ruby, Bobby, Liv, and Charlotte would love to know they’re wasting their time. Just say the word Becky and you can go do whatever the hell you want to do.”

 

Alexa watched as the words hit Becky like a sledgehammer. Her mouth opening and closing several times, unable to actually say the words.

 

“I’m waiting.” The tiny blonde added while tapping her foot impatiently. “For someone who talked such a big game you sure are quiet all of a sudden.”

 

Becky huffed, trying desperately to hold onto whatever ground she still had. “Just go away. You’re annoying me.”

 

Alexa raised a challenging eyebrow. “Avoiding the topic. Real classic.”

 

“Just go away… Please.” Becky pleaded. The fire that had momentarily sparked in her had burned out quickly.  

 

Alexa understood that she was getting close. “I know if you had a choice, I’d be at the end of your list of people you want to see right now. But I think deep down you don’t really believe a word of what you’re saying.”

 

Becky gave her an angry look but that was all she could conjure right now.

 

“It’s ok if you want some alone time but don’t push everyone away like a jackass when you could just politely ask them.” Alexa said. “Believe it or not, some of us actually like you. We aren’t here just for the money anymore. I can’t speak for the others but I’d be gone if that’s all I was here for.” It almost physically pained the blonde to admit, however indirectly, that she actually like Becky but she trudged on anyways, “We’re trying to be here for you. All you need to do is be honest and let us.”

 

The fighter was silent for a minute and Alexa didn’t know what else to say. She started towards the door when Becky’s quiet voice reached her ears. “Would you uhh… Could you make sure no one’s in my room?”

 

Alexa turned back around and looked at the woman who normally seemed larger than life. She decided to take pity on her and nodded. “Alright. She’ll come to talk eventually. You know that right?”

 

Becky simply nodded but couldn’t meet Alexa’s eyes. It was disconcerting how well the blonde knew her but she supposed that was in the job description. “I know…”

 

Without anymore words Alexa slinked out of the room already typing out a message on her phone. Leaving Becky alone amongst the shattered pieces of wood that littered the small back room.

 

Sasha was gripping the rails of the hotel elevator as though she felt she might slip through the floor otherwise. The ride up to the suite which, infuriatingly, was on the top floor, left her feeling like a caged animal. She had to escape her mind and feelings, and now, or she’d be crushed. And she probably still would.

 

When the door finally opened, Sasha blew out of the elevator and roughly shoved a man out of her way as she went. Ignoring his indignant shouts she stumbled as though blind drunk toward her room, why did it have to be at the far end of the hallway. Tears were already starting to blur her eyes as she went and she drunkenly collided with a room service cart as she went.

 

Even when she got there she found no immediate relief. Her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t get her room card to work. Yet she felt as much urgency as she might if a wild cat had been charging down the hallway toward her.

 

“COME ON YOU FUCKING THING!” Sasha roared, not caring that she was in a hotel hallway. She pounded her fist against the door with shattering force, though of course this accomplished nothing. When she finally did manage to open her door, she kicked it with all the force of a SWAT team. Slamming it behind her she stalked into the middle of her suite, hands on her head. She was legitimately concerned she might have heart attack, it was beating that fast.

 

Spinning in a circle she looked desperately around for anything that might help. Her eyes falling on another bottle of ‘Boss Rum’ on a side table she hurried over and physically tore the box apart in her eagerness to get at it. It was very difficult for her to get the plastic off with her hands shaking as badly as they were but she eventually did. Ripping the cork out she threw it aside and proceeded to drain almost a fourth of the bottle.

  
When she was finally forced to come up for air her throat was on fire but she didn’t care, the pain distracted her. Closing her eyes and hanging her head she sobbed but tried to cover it with more rum, this only caused her to choke, spraying amber liquid in front of her. She tried again and this time managed to down a sizeable fraction of the remaining liquor. This brought on another coughing fit which bent her over almost double. As she did she turned around to face the room and found her own face staring back at her.

 

For a moment she was transfixed. The woman in the mirror was wearing her face, but just like when she’d gotten home from Boston...Sasha didn’t know her. But unlike that time, rage boiled up inside her. Squeezing her eyes shut she let out a banshee scream of pure fury and pain.

 

“I HATE YOU!” Sasha screamed at her own reflection.

 

She closed her eyes again and let out another howl before trying to take another drink but finding her hand was shaking so badly that she spilled most of the rum down her shirt. She didn’t care. She tried again and managed to get several more ounces of liquor into her stomach.

 

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” Sasha roared at her reflection, at herself.

 

She didn’t know how long she stayed in this position. Maybe it was a minute, maybe it last hours. All she knew was that several unpleasant things happened.

 

Drawing her arm back she flung her half empty bottle at the mirror. The rum bottle shattered on impact but left only a small pit in the mirror. Furious at it, herself, and everything, Sasha strode toward it and snatched up small statuette from a coffee table.

 

“GO AWAY! FUCK YOU!” she bellowed as she slammed the heavy chunk of stone into the mirror. This did the trick, a shower of glass cascaded down in front of her, several small chunks flying back to cut her forearms. She barely noticed as her violet motion had caused her sunglasses to fall down over her eyes. Her Boss sunglasses…

 

Another scream tore from her vocal cords as she ripped them out of her hair and flung them down at the ground. They were made mostly of gold so they didn’t break but Sasha fell to her knees after them and brought her statuette crashing down on top of them. A spray of precious stones skittered across the floor as she hammered the shattered remains of the glasses again and again.

 

Next came her rings, each was destroyed with equal fury. She hated the boss, she hated herself, and she just wanted to not feel. But eventually this explosion of rage took its toll, her arm grew tired and her voice vanished. Leaving her only with tears and racking sobs. Falling down amidst the debris and glass she lay on her side, her tears pooling next to her face. Her eyes fell on the remains of the frames for her glasses.

 

“I hate you...I hate you...I hate me…” she whispered over and over to them. She would never remember how long she stayed like that. Maybe it had been a minute, or maybe she lay there for hours. All she knew was that two more unpleasant things occured. The first, was that she cried as she had never cried before. Enormous racking sobs that hurt her chest, but that she couldn’t stop.

 

Or maybe she just didn’t want to. Maybe...she just didn’t deserve to.

 

The second thing, far more unpleasant, came later. Sasha weighed about 120 lbs of almost pure muscle. The problem was that this wasn’t nearly enough mass to absorb almost an entire bottle of rum consumed in under two minutes. Her body simply could not handle that amount of alcohol and it rejected it forcibly. Sasha wretched and continued to do so until there was nothing left in her stomach.

 

This left Sasha laying on her side next to her own vomit, and still sobbing. It got to where she was so far down in her own despair and hopelessness that she wasn’t really aware of where she was.

 

She’d finally done it, something told her that this was it. She was gone.

 

Bayley was gone, and Sasha had finally pushed her away. And she’d done it simply because she wasn’t strong enough to be better. Because simply being a good person was too much for the champ.

 

Another indeterminate amount of time passed, with Sasha immersed in a despair more profound than anything a poet could conjure. She might have stayed there forever if she hadn’t suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I’m putting an end to this,” a familiar voice said from above her.

 

Charlotte left the auditorium without looking back. Not looking back was actually tremendously hard. Becky obviously needed something she wasn’t able to give right now.

 

She looked ahead of herself and tried to catch sight of the familiar side ponytail of her friend but found nothing. Bayley had a head start on her and surely wasn’t intent on sticking around much longer.

 

The blonde used her long legs to move quickly down the hallway where it split into two directions and quickly looked both ways. When she spotted Bayley not too far ahead she almost thought luck was on her side… But then she remembered.

 

“Hey Bayley. Wait up.” Charlotte called after her as she strode nearer in pursuit.

 

Bayley didn’t stop, she knew Charlotte would be after her to try and help but she didn’t want it right now. All she wanted to do was leave and never come back to this place. A place where she’d had all her illusions stripped from her. She knew that she was panicking in a small way, that she needed to just take a deep breath, but she didn’t. So she just kept walking.

 

Charlotte frowned and sped up her pace. “I know you heard me.” She kept following, slowly gaining ground until she was just a few feet behind Bayley. She stopped trying to gain ground at this point and just walked in step with the other woman for a while. “It’s alright. I can wait.”

 

Bayley breathed out through her nose and spun on Charlotte, suddenly all the day’s helplessness lashed out at her. “WHAT Charlotte?! What?! What are we supposed to talk about now? What can I say to you or you say to me that will make ANY of what we just saw not hurt like it does now? Because if you’ve got something that you think will work then PLEASE, let me hear it!” Bayley almost never spoke like this but she’d found that her sadness was turning with surprising speed into frustration.

 

She had expected something like this as a reaction but it still rattled her nonetheless. “I uhh… I don’t know.” In a rare case Charlotte could admit she had no idea what she was doing. She didn’t know what to say. Staring the reality of the situation was grim but she couldn’t let it get her down too. Bayley had always been the one not afraid to hope in the darkest of times and now it was Charlotte’s turn to try and take on the mantle. Ill fitting as it felt. “But I’m not ready to give up on them. You were the one who told me that there was something worth fighting for. When you’re ready to talk you know where to find me.”

 

Bayley sagged, as ever unable to sustain any sort of anger based emotion for very long. Charlotte’s words had gone right under her guard. Bayley had been rocked by some undeniable body blows in recent weeks, even tried to be a harder and more cynical woman. But if what she’d just seen proved anything, you can’t act a role forever. Closing her eyes she stepped forward and hugged Charlotte as she said: “You’re right...but I don’t have any idea what we’re supposed to do Char...is it even our job to do anything?”

 

Charlotte desperately wished she knew the answer. She was mulling it over in her head but spoke with as much confidence as she could. “It’s not a job. More of a volunteer position. We can be there for them and show them we’re still there, but ultimately they need to make the next step.” She hugged Bayley a little closer and added, “Too bad we picked some stubborn jackasses.”

 

Bayley choked a laugh as she backed away. She didn’t really feel ‘better’, that would take a very long time. But it was amazing how much less out of control she felt out of the hall, and with Charlotte. She didn’t know if she’d ever speak with either fighter again, but she did realize now that if she allowed herself to sink back into despair she’d be handing them far too much power over her life. And frankly, neither of the bitches deserved it.

 

“I’d invite you over, but I know you’re going to have to go upstairs at some point, hotel bar for awhile?” she asked.

 

Charlotte smiled sadly and nodded. “Nothing with alcohol. I think I saw they have mozzarella stick though. Some greasy goodness doesn’t sound horrible right now.”

 

“Can’t be worse for us than what just happened,” Bayley said as she began to walk. In an odd way, she was beyond being sad now. This was more than her epiphany about control. She was realizing that she’d spent entirely too much time recently weeping. Letting herself be blown hither and thither on the winds of circumstance. As horrendous and gut wrenching as the press conference had been, it had been a wake up call.

 

Charlotte walked alongside the reporter and said, “Your not wrong. I think we both deserve a bit of indulgence after that.”

 

As they walked, Bayley was thinking. She was grateful to Charlotte for taking time away from things that were much more pressing than her, whatever Charlotte might say. But on the other hand, given what Charlotte had waiting for her...Bayley might have dawdled too. She did not envy her friend the task that lay ahead of her later that night.

 

**Charlotte/Becky**

 

Charlotte paused outside the hotel room door. Even knowing what was behind the door did little to quell the riot of emotions inside. After the press conference earlier today she hadn’t known how best to move forward. Surely there would be repercussions from the athletic commission and maybe even a small fine from Shane to make it look like he wasn’t overjoyed after the brawl.

 

She slipped the plastic keycard into the lock. The tiny green light indicating it was now unlocked and marking the moment that Charlotte couldn’t turn back.

 

“Becky?” The name echoing out in the dark room. The only light coming from the glass doors that led to the balcony and the outside elements. Rain coming down in torrential buckets and filling the silence with a constant percussion of droplets.

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. Flicking on one the lights and chasing away some of the darkness with her entrance. Still no sign of the redhead. But she had confirmed with several people that Becky had came up here sometime after her and Sasha left the stage. No one had seen her leave so she must be here. Unless she had a parachute there wasn’t another way off the 50th floor suite Shane had upgraded them too. A show of his ‘appreciation’ for Becky after Charlotte and his altercation.

 

She might have believed that it wasn’t a petty show of his power, if not for the bottle of Irish whiskey that had been sitting center place on the counter upon first entering the suite. The subsequent ‘apology’ he had sent putting the blame entirely on an “Unfortunate mistake from some intern” dripped with insincerity and a blatant middle finger to the concerns Charlotte had voiced.

 

It took some time to actually look through the entire hotel suite and still she saw no sight of the fighter. The space was undoubtedly impressive and sprawling but at a time like this the square footage was more of a hindrance than anything to her search.

 

As she walked through the kitchen she froze and turned to look at the half fridge underneath the bar area scared of what she’d find. But instead she was just increasingly puzzled. The lock she had fixed around the handle hadn’t been tampered with. Just to be sure Charlotte quickly put in the combination 01-30-87 and saw that none of the alcohol inside was missing.

 

At this point she was running out of ideas. The only place she hadn’t checked was outside on the balcony but the pounding rain made it seem so unlikely that anyone would willingly endure it.

 

The city looked otherworldly from so high up. Rain drops crashing into the glass and making the skyline blur into a blinking kaleidoscope.

 

Howling wind snuck inside the moment Charlotte cracked open the door. A few stinging droplets of cold rain hitting her skin. “Becky?”

 

She was just about to give up when a familiar raspy voice spoke up. “What do you want?”

 

Charlotte had finally found the redhead. Although her hair was so soaked that it looked closer to a dark brown at the moment. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, still in the same clothes she had been wearing for the press conference. “What are you doing out here? Get inside before you make yourself sick.”

 

“Fuck off. Just go back to whatever you were doing. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” The words might have had more of their intended impact had she not been shivering throughout.

 

“Clearly. This just screams ‘I’m doing great’.” Charlotte threw back. She wouldn’t just stand here and let Becky throw everything she had worked for out the window even if she was disappointed with how things had gone.

 

“Ugh. Why are you still here? Go gossip with Bayley about how shitty a person I am. Done pretending I’m not.”

 

Charlotte frowned and opened the door just a bit further. Using the door as a makeshift shield from the rain. It didn’t stop her from getting wet but it helped slow down the rate at which she would become drenched. “Shut the hell up Becky! I’m done with your little pity party or whatever the hell this is. Get inside or I will drag you kicking and screaming.”

 

“No you won’t.” Becky taunted with supposed certainty.

 

Charlotte didn’t bother answering with words.

 

“WHAT THE HELL! Oi! Put me down you giant!”

 

The taller blond responded by holding onto the wriggling woman she had thrown over her shoulder tighter. Uncaring of how quickly her dress picked up the excess water that Becky’s clothing could no longer soak in. “I told you I would do it. You didn’t listen.” Quickly freeing one of her hands to shut the balcony door behind them and stop the rain from making it inside.

 

It was impossible not to notice how concerningly discernable each of Becky’s ribs was. Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from running the palm of her hand along her fighter’s back. The rain soaked sleeveless shirt doing nothing to hide what her leather jacket normally hid. Each bump of her spine felt like it was attempting to slowly poke its way out through the skin. She seemed far more fragile than someone with such a physical occupation should.

 

Maybe if she had known the extent that Becky was punishing herself she might have tried harder to get through to her. But she didn’t want to put the blame solely on her shoulders. The redhead hadn’t exactly been forthcoming, in fact she had been rather deceptive in hiding it and acting like she didn’t care.

 

A wild kick to her thigh stopped Charlotte’s lamentation and had her stumbling forward. “Have it your way.” She said before letting go of her hold and allowing Becky’s own struggles to bring her crashing to the floor.

 

Becky groaned at the pain from where her shoulder had hit the ground but scrambled to push herself back to her feet. Unwilling to show vulnerability in front of Charlotte or anyone right now. Almost slipping several times on the rain soaked flooring. “Why? I don’t want you here. Don’t you get that already? Or do ya need me to beat it into you?”

 

“Would punching me really help you feel better?” Charlotte asked. Her eyes closely following the irate Irish woman.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Charlotte sighed and opened her arms wide. “Then go ahead.”

 

“Oh, go fuck yourself. Do you ever get tired of being so high and mighty?”

 

“You ever get tired of beating yourself up?” Charlotte fired back. Easily dodging the sloppy telegraphed punch that came her direction. “Being such an ass must be exhausting.”

 

“STOP IT!” Becky yelled and managed to land a punch to Charlotte’s midsection that took some of the wind from her sails.

 

She just managed to move out the way of another and shoved Becky backwards to get some space. “Stop what? Telling the truth? You got drunk and were a complete jackass to one of your best friends. Do you even care?”

 

“Don’t question if I cared. Do you think I wanted this?”

 

“Well then why don’t you do something about it instead of wasting away crying woe is me. I know you’re better than that. Where is the girl who showed up to my father’s gym and made me eat my words? Cause all I’m seeing right now is everything I used to think you were.”

 

“Shut the hell up! You don’t know anything.” Becky said before lashing out with a punch that Charlotte barely managed to avoid. “Fight back you stupid bitch! Fucking coward.”

 

Charlotte tried to stay calm but Becky was testing her right now and she couldn’t afford to lose. “No. I’m done fighting you Becky.”

“Really?” The redhead scoffed. Her eyes wide and crazed as she stalked forward. “You probably should rethink that.” Throwing a quick combination that Charlotte couldn’t fully get away from. Even in her current state the blonde wasn’t exactly up to winning a fair fight against a trained martial artist.

 

When one of Becky’s punches landed solidly Charlotte couldn’t help herself from reflexively throwing one of her own in retaliation. It should have been easy for the redhead to dodge or block but she didn’t. Allowing Charlotte’s fist to connect with her chin solidly and snap her head back.

 

“Is that all you got Charlie? I know you can hit harder than that.” A disturbing grin and manic look filling the redhead’s face. Her tongue flitting out to lick at the corner corner of her lips where a small drop of blood had been drawn.

 

This wasn’t how Charlotte wanted this to go. She wasn’t sure what she expected but there was no way this path would end well. “We aren’t doing this anymore.” Letting her hands fall to her side and leave herself completely open to an attack. Even when Becky’s blows had landed she could feel that they weren’t full force. She was under no illusion that Becky couldn’t easily take her down if she wasn’t holding back.

 

Becky held her fist back and gritted her teeth. “Come on. This was just getting fun.”

 

“You can hit me if you think it will honestly make you feel better.” Charlotte held still as she watched the muscles in Becky’s arm contract painfully tight.

 

“Don’t be an idiot.” The warning coming out with a hint of trepidation underneath. “One solid punch and I’ll break yer jaw.”

 

“So then do it.” Charlotte calmly said. “Prove to me that I was wrong to start believing in you. Prove that Bayley was wrong to be your friend. If you’re such a badass who doesn’t care, then do it. Break my jaw Becky… I’m waiting.”

Becky brought her fist up. Squeezing so tightly that her arm seemed to be vibrating under its own strain. “You were wrong. She was too.”

 

“I’m hearing you say that but here I stand.”

 

“Fuck off Flair. I’m... not good. You were right about me all along. I can’t change what I am. The only time people cared was when I was the champ.”

 

“So, Bayley never cared about you? You didn’t have the title back then. Don’t have it now.” Charlotte needled and took a step towards the Irish woman. “But I’m still here. Why do you think I’m doing this? Do you think I don’t give a shit what happens to you? Because if I did you can bet I wouldn’t be in here right now.”

 

Becky shook her head as her body flooded with the need to escape. The rain that dripped down from her hair made it hard to decipher where the liquid on her cheeks originated from. “You shouldn’t be here.”

 

Charlotte took one more step forward. Her hands still down at her sides. Completely vulnerable to any attack. “Why?”

 

“Because. I’m not good.” The redhead seemed to shrink in front of her eyes and Charlotte was painfully reminded of the woman that had first shown up in Boston. All that progress seemed to have been erased. Months of hard work undone in a couple weeks.

 

“If you’re so bad; so evil. Then I ask again. Why am I still standing right now?”

 

Becky growled and lunged at Charlotte. Crashing into the stalwart blonde who didn’t give an inch and pounding the side of her fist against her chest. Barely noticing the arms that wrapped around her as she continued to throw her fist in a endless loop. “Fuck you Charlie.” The redhead’s voice barely understandable. “Fuck you. Why won’t you just hit me? I’m bad. Hit me damnit!”

 

Charlotte tightened her arms around her fighter as the fight slowly left her. “Why do you want me to?”

 

“Because I made Bayley… I hurt her. I... Please, can’t you just leave.” The words muffled as Becky’s legs gave out and her head slid down to press against Charlotte’s midsection. A combination of being emotionally overwhelmed and her legs shaking from the cold. Rain soaked jeans doing nothing to fight the chill that had taken over her body long ago. “I’m not worth it. I’ll just fuck up again. ”

 

The redhead’s deceptively tiny fist slowed down. Any strength it had at one point was absent now as her body shook like a leaf. Barely holding on as wind buffeted her and threatened to unplant the last tethers that desperately held on. “Don’t.”

  
She felt Becky leaning against her and knew she was the only reason the other woman was still on her feet. Slowly dropping down till she was sitting on the floor and pulling a tired and strangely compliant Becky into her lap. One hand idly stroking the wet strands of hair away from her forehead and allowing the other woman to fall apart like she clearly needed. “Why do you care?” Where Becky’s earlier questions had a petulant aggressive tone this was more earnest in its curiosity.

 

“Because I can’t see you go through this alone.” Charlotte felt how cold Becky was from her rain bath earlier and pulled the other woman closer still. Sharing her own warmth the best she could.

 

Becky was silent and Charlotte was considerate enough to not made a big deal when she felt the fist that had been hitting her open and curl into fabric of her dress. “I’ve been such an asshole.”

 

“You have. But you can change that.”

 

The first time Becky had committed and actually tried to better herself had been difficult. This time was harder. The knowledge that she had failed once made the prospect even more daunting. But continuing down this road would only mean more of the same. “I’m so tired Charlie. I’m tired of feeling like this everyday.”

 

Charlotte’s smile was bittersweet. “It’ll be alright. You’ve done it once before on your own. This time you’ll have me in your corner. Ruby and Liv still like you and want to help. You’re not alone in this. It’s still going to suck but we’ll be there to help you every step of the way. Even if you try to push us away. That’s what you do for family.”

 

Becky was silent and for a few minutes the only sound that could be heard was the rain pelting the glass and a few sobs that the redhead couldn’t stiffle.

 

It still felt surreal for Charlotte. She wanted so badly to believe this was the moment Becky needed. Some catharsis from whatever internal battle she had been fighting.

 

She knew this wasn’t the end of the line for her fighter. There would undoubtedly be more struggles in the future. Forgiveness on certain fronts wouldn’t magically be granted nor was she convinced Becky had forgiven herself.

 

But no matter how much Becky pushed her away Charlotte wouldn’t let her go through it alone.

 

“I’m not sure I can do this.”

 

Charlotte barely heard the words but they squeezed her heart like a vice nonetheless. Her arms kept their solid hold. Keeping Becky grounded in the moment and not letting her drift away now that she was her. There was only one other time Becky had allowed her this close and it felt nice to see a bit of the woman who had tried to comfort her after she had overreacted to the redhead and her father watching a movie.

 

Becky couldn’t see it but she felt how much Charlotte cared when the taller blonde tucked her head in under her chin. Strong arms continuing to pull her closer when she’d been pushing them away for so long. She didn’t know how to express herself. If Charlotte stopped holding on she was convinced that the fresh glue that was holding her together would lose its hold.

 

“It’ll be hard. But you can. You’re Becky fuckin’ Lynch. Right? You can do anything you want.” Charlotte finally answered. Throwing the old confidence Becky had right back at her. “Isn’t that what you’ve told me before?”

 

No answer came for some time. Both women just sitting in the little bubble they had created. Time didn’t matter to Becky. Someone thought she was worth it. She still wasn’t one hundred percent sure herself, but if Charlotte thought she was then it was worth a shot. “Thanks. I’m sorry about ruining your dress.”

 

Charlotte had been lulled into the comfortable silence and perked up when Becky spoke. “It’s alright. You can pay for the dry cleaning.” Charlotte responded teasingly.

 

A sound she hadn’t expected filled Charlotte with hope. Laughter. It was just a small quick burst but it meant so much more right now. “I can manage that… Charlie?”

 

“Mmmhmm?”

 

“Not that I’m complaining, but could you let me go? I’d really like to change out of these clothes.”

 

Charlotte smirked. “Of course. Knew it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t resist.”

 

Becky’s head snapped up. Her mouth open in shock with a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Did you just make a sex joke? I thought that was my thing?”

 

It wasn’t a grand declaration of sobriety but for Charlotte it was enough right now. A glimpse of the Becky she had grown to care for shining through the darkness. A glimpse of the woman she couldn’t look away from or deny any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy taco salad Batman! Our longest chapter yet, in the shortest time period between updates. There is almost too much to talk about in this one, but we wanted to include so much before getting to the big LA presser. So, instead of trying I will just ask what the heck yall thought of this one? We've been setting up so much and are finally getting to the payoffs. Probably just two chapters left unless we make one XL chapter to wrap this one up. 
> 
> But we can say at least say for all of you who've been sad over it, that the worst of it is now behind Becky. Depressed Becky was depressing to write and I'm glad to say that there will be no more of that. 
> 
> ALSO, make sure you check my amazing co-writer and the impressive LiteratureLocker and their new work The Four Horsewomen: Directive 51 Link Here -----> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515749/chapters/43881649  
> Its a fun take on the 4HW being badasses and even if you haven't played The Division it's still a fun read and you learn everything you need to know.
> 
> *TV Static.......*
> 
> The following is a message from the PWO
> 
> *TV static*
> 
> Hey yo! The platypus world order has a message for you! Remember that story we told you about, the one that will be our followup to Perseverance? Well check it out, the next chapter is up! In this one, we explore the origins of the irascible but brilliant Dr. Bayley Martinez. Make sure and check it out (link below) and if you like what you read, please be sure to bookmark!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448562/chapters/43947985
> 
> We now return you to your regularly scheduled Goose programming!
> 
> *TV Static*


	15. Chapter 15: From the Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte: Is forced to steer her team through an unexpected new hurdle while confronting an old problem.
> 
> Becky: Thrust into an unexpected situation, how will she react when she’s asked to do something she’d never expect.
> 
> Sasha: Can the people around her, and one surprising source, help pull her up from rock bottom?
> 
> Bayley: Is forced to define what kind of person she’ll be all while uncovering an explosive secret

**Bayley**

 

“... _ MMA world is still reeling from the news that BFA Women’s Bantamweight Champion Sasha Banks has announced she will be withdrawing from her previously scheduled fight with Becky Lynch. If Banks does indeed pull out of the fight she will be stripped of her title. So far Sasha Banks’ team, Thuggin and Buggin Combat Sports, has refused to comment beyond a written statement saying, quote-” _

 

Bayley turned her TV off and sighed heavily. Yet again she found herself confronting a blinking cursor on her laptop. She had the ‘what’ of her story, indeed everyone in the MMA world did. There hadn’t been bigger news in the sport since Becky Lynch had first lost her title. Bayley needed to get something up on MMAyley.com and soon. Yet the words wouldn’t come.

 

She grunted in frustration as she worked her fingers against her temples. She needed to concentrate, yet she couldn’t. And there wasn’t much mystery as to why. After the press conference, already being called ‘California Screamin’ Bayley had filed her story and then taken a day to herself to get her head straight. 

 

To say it had been hard to watch would be to say that Julius Cesar simply had a rough afternoon in the Senate one march. Bayley had felt a part of her die as she’d stood in the hall, watching Sasha and Becky make asses of themselves. But now, she found that she might have been freed as well.

 

She had no illusions left, the figments she’d been clinging too, her friendship with Becky and whatever she’d had with Sasha, seemed to be well and truly dead. She missed them, she mourned them, she wished life could be different, but she was also learning to accept it. Maybe it was time she let them go.

 

But it was one thing to think this and to tell herself she should do it. It was quite another to get her spirit to accept it. She just hoped that if she repeated it enough she might start to believe it. Though that hadn’t been working very well so far. 

 

Or maybe that lie was that she was ready to move on at all.

 

She wished she had answers to this and other questions, but right now she just wished she could get something down about the press conference. She’d started and deleted more drafts than she cared to count at this point. She’d spent time pacing around the apartment, killed time watching youtube videos, mindlessly checked her personal social media accounts, grabbed a fresh bag of sabor de soledad, and on and on. None of which helped her actual problem.

 

She was just contemplating turning her PC, maybe seeing if Lizzie was online. Checking her phone she saw that the girl would be home from school by now. Bayley had a surprising amount of fun gaming with the girl and they’d been planning a deep diving on the Division II when Lizzie got it, but maybe she’d just turn on her Switch.

 

She was just feeling her urge to procrastinate overcoming her sense of professionalism when life intervened. As it turned out Bayley really wouldn’t get anything written that afternoon. But it wouldn’t be because she was gaming.

 

There was a knock on her door.

 

Bayley frowned, she wasn’t expecting anyone and her neighborhood, while perfectly nice, wasn’t one for door to door callers. What was more, for some reason, this knock made Bayley more nervous than she could account for. Enough so that she thought hard about not answering it.

 

Something told her that opening her door would mean change. Of what sort, she couldn’t begin to say. But epochal, irrevocable, and dramatic change awaited.  She couldn’t explain how, but she knew it did. The idea of opening a door to that was frightening. Bayley would have defied anyone not to be scared under these circumstances. Bayley was.

 

Of course, there was always the other possibility so she made sure to grab the .38 special Charlotte had insisted she purchase. She’d been practicing with it, and in any case, it would be hard to miss across the distance of a door frame. Without unchaining the door Bayley opened it and peered out. What she saw made her one exposed eye widen.

 

“Yes?” she finally asked, after a surprised pause.

 

“Excuse me, ma’am, could I speak to you for a moment please?”

 

Bayley took a long moment to study him. Everyone had heard the phrase ‘cap in hand’ but Bayley had never actually seen it in action before. The effect was made somewhat comical on a man as big as the one at her door now. Still, hat or not, Meng Fifita was an intimidating person. Somehow his gentle, almost docile, expression and demeanor only accentuated this.

 

“Ah...sure,” Bayley said uncertainly. She knew who this was, anyone in the world of MMA would. But that knowledge did nothing to explain his presence at her door. Though she supposed there could really only be one reason.

 

“I wondered if I could talk to you...only for a short time...about Sasha Banks,” Meng said, twisting his hat in his hands. He was looking Bayley in the eyes and his expression made clear just how uncomfortable he was at the moment. But equally, how determined he was.

 

“Umm...I don’t think...I hardly know her,” Bayley said, lamely. She knew her tone had given her away but she still tried to close the door. But as she did Meng said four words.

 

“She needs you, Bayley.”

 

“You must have me confused with someone else Mr. Fifita, I interviewed her once but-” Bayley started to say but Meng shook his head.

 

“I don’t particularly care what you and Sasha had once, Ms. Martinez. It’s not my business. But I know it meant more to her than just about anything else because it’s the one thing she won’t stop talking about when she’s drunk and insensible...and she’s been that way a lot recently,” Meng said this last with a heavy sigh.

 

Bayley sighed again but her voice was firm as she said: “You’re right, it’s none of your business.”

 

Meng nodded once: “My apologies for bothering you ma’am, please have a good day.” With that, he turned around and began to leave. This left Bayley still holding the half-open door with her eyes closed, waging a ferocious internal battle. 

 

She had tried to tell herself to move on, she even tried to do it. But the world had a sick sense of humor it seemed. Or maybe it was just cruel. Either way, it kept dragging her right back to where she’d begun.

 

“Wait!” she cried, Meng turned around to look at her quizzically. Bayley steeled herself for what was to come, knowing that it would be the opposite of moving on. She resented this, but she still knew what she had to, and would, do. “Would you like to come in?” she asked.

  
  


**Becky/Charlotte**

 

“...Now you just wait for it to warm up all the way through.”

 

“That’s what she said!” Irish accent speaking up and interrupting the two blondes with the same joke she already had used no less than five times as the two worked. A tiny sniffle immediately afterward making the words lose some of their intended effect. 

 

Charlotte looked out of the kitchen towards the couch Becky had been sitting on. The redhead looking almost comical wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets that engulfed everything but her head. “One more time and you won’t get any of this.”

 

Becky’s grin widened to an unearthly extent and Charlotte knew she had stepped right into this one. 

 

“That’s wha-”

 

“Oh shut up.” Alexa jumped in before Becky could finish. Idly stirring the mixture in front of her before studiously covering the pot and adjusting the heat on the stovetop. “I went through all this trouble to help Charlotte make this soup because your stupid ass got a cold last night. The least you can do is thank us for going above and beyond.”

 

Becky pouted and burrowed further into the blankets. A muffled, “Thanks,” just barely audible. 

 

Charlotte decided to ignore Becky for now and turned to speak solely to Alexa. “Thanks for helping me. I’ve been told that cooking isn’t my strong suit.”

 

“I saw.” Alexa deadpanned. A tiny hint of a smile playing on her lips before she shut it down. “I couldn’t just sit back while you tried to give Becky salmonella.”

 

“Haha. See if I ever ask you for help again.”

 

The smaller blonde winked up at Charlotte. “Mission accomplished then.”

 

The sound of soft chuckles from the couch had Charlotte rolling her eyes. “Don’t give her ideas Alexa.”

 

After waiting around twenty minutes and double checking to make sure all the vegetables and chicken had been thoroughly cooked with no risk of disease Charlotte handed a half-full bowl of the steaming liquid into her fighter’s hands. “Careful. It’s hot.” 

 

This time it was Becky’s turn to roll her eyes, taking the bowl from the blonde delicately and using the spoon to stir the soup. “Sure yer just talkin’ ‘bout the soup Charlie?”

 

“Ugh.” Alexa made a gagging noise as she walked over to the couch with a bowl of her own and plopped herself down. “Please don’t make me hurl when I’m trying to eat. Thanks.”

 

“Ahh, is someone a lil’ jealous?” Becky countered back with a smug grin. 

 

“Of what? That you aren’t trying to make me blush because you can’t deal with your crush like a normal human being?” Alexa grinned in triumph at the dumbstruck look on Becky’s face. 

 

Charlotte had initially been cringing and, much to her annoyance, blushing at the two’s back and forth, but when Becky didn’t immediately shoot down Alexa’s assertion she looked over at the redhead. Mentally filing away how flustered the fighter appeared. The fact that Becky was now the one blushing was not lost on her. 

 

“And I thought I was the one with the drinking problem.” The comeback coming far too late and with far too obvious false bravado to be all that effective. 

 

Alexa knew she had won that round even if Becky had the last word. Instead of pushing her advantage she showed the redhead some mercy and allowed her to save face in front of the other blonde in the room. “Do you ever stop being so you?”

 

“Hasn’t since I’ve known her.” Charlotte chimed in as she lightly blew on the spoonful of soup before to cool it down. Moaning in delight and closing her eyes at the flavors dancing on her tongue. The taste of good homemade chicken noodle soup bringing her back to her childhood. Memories of the days she was unfortunate enough to be sick when she would curl up in the corner of her couch with a bowl of fresh soup, watching whatever television show she was currently hooked on. The advent of Netflix had surely improved the rare day when she was sick but she still looked back on those older days with reverence. 

 

Becky would normally have a few words at the tip of her tongue but her mind didn’t seem to be working at the moment. Momentarily distracted by pleasant visions brought on by the look that crossed over Charlotte’s face. 

 

“Subtle,” Alexa stated with glee. 

 

The redhead pierced Alexa with a glare. “Fuck you.”

 

“Asking the wrong person sweetie.” The blonde’s sickly sweet voice accompanied by a bright smile. 

 

Becky continued her attempt to glare Alexa out of existence but had to stop and blow her nose. 

 

“That doesn’t really help the intimidation factor you’re going for sweetie.” 

 

“STOP callin’ me, sweetie. Yer blissin’ me off.”

 

Alexa had to fight to keep a playful grin from spreading wider. “Oh, I’m sorry. If I’d known it annoyed you I’d have been calling you that long ago… sweetie.”

 

Becky casually moved across the couch, waited till the tiny blonde was taking a spoonful of soup and flicked her ear. 

 

“Are you kidding me?” Alexa was incredulous at the sheer audacity of the redhead. “What are you? Five?”

 

The fighter was grinning like she had just won a race. “Seven actually.”

 

“Alright. Enough. Alexa, don’t encourage her. Becky, just stop it.” Charlotte broke in. Feeling much like what she assumed a grade school teacher had to feel with two rowdy troublemakers in class. 

 

“She started it.” Becky mumbled.    
  


“Oh please. I was being nice and letting you off the hook.”

 

Charlotte stopped it before it continued. “If both of you stop I will let you get some dessert from room service.” She knew both women had a sweet tooth and wasn’t above using her knowledge against them. “On me.”

 

The two women in question shared a look before nodding and settling down like nothing had happened. 

 

“Hey, Becky could you please pass me the remote?”

 

“Why of course Alexa.”

 

The remote was passed over so amicably and without further incident, Charlotte started to suspect she had been duped. “Why do I get the feeling you two somehow planned this?”

 

Becky didn’t even have the decency to act well. Her innocent act comically easy to see through. “What? Noooooooo. Who could be that devious… that cunnin’ and brilliant… I t’ink you’re gettin’ a lil paranoid Flairy.”

 

Charlotte focused in on the redhead who she was now sure was the ringleader in this fearsome duo. “It’s not paranoia. I just know you.” Her expression turning deadly serious when she saw the bowl of soup next to Becky that still sat untouched. “And I don’t want to hear another word till you’ve gotten halfway through that bowl.”

 

The fighter rolled her eyes but conceded and began to slowly spoon the soup into her mouth. “Not half bad.” She admitted. Sure to keep her praise underwhelming so the two didn’t get the satisfaction of knowing how much she liked it.  

 

Alexa turned on the television and switched over to a random news channel. Idly watching the broadcast so she could ignore the other two’s constant furtive glances at one another. The tension between them terribly obvious to Alexa. 

 

The three sat comfortably for a couple of minutes and enjoyed the relative calm until it was broken by Alexa dropping her spoon. The metal clanging off the side of the bowl and drawing both Becky and Charlotte’s attention from their cat and mouse routine.    
  
“Has Shane called you at all?” Alexa asked as her gaze remained fixed to the television. 

 

“No. Why?” 

 

Alexa gestured to the television where a breaking news segment was now showing. “Because of that.”

 

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open when she read the headline. 

 

Becky was at a loss for words. Her chest felt like an elephant had decided to make use of her as a seat cushion. 

 

_ ‘Sasha Banks withdraws from her bout with Becky Lynch’ _

 

The words that had flashed on the screen shocked them all. 

 

Even more, than a day later they were still trying to adjust on the fly to the bombshell news. 

 

The phone call between Charlotte and Shane after finding out the news hadn’t exactly gone all that well. 

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You couldn’t have called or got someone to give us a heads up?”

 

_ “Things move fast. I’m sorry I had more important things to do than holding your hand.” _

 

“This isn’t about that and you know it. I get it. You’re mad at me. Fine. But Becky didn’t do anything. If you want to be an ass, be an ass to me. Not her.”

 

_ “I don’t know what you possibly mean… But, let's just say if I was trying to be an ass than I’d be ill-advised to change my tactics.” _

 

“What do you mean?”

 

_ “You need to play your cards closer to your chest. A lesser man than me would take advantage of how much you care about Ms. Lynch.” _

 

“...You’re a piece of shit Shane.”

 

_ “I hope you and Becky have a good day. I’ll be sure to get in touch when we need you. Goodbye Charlotte.” _

 

Charlotte had hung up and immediately tossed the phone onto the cushioned chair she had been pacing near. One hand quickly swiping through her hair. 

 

She knew Shane could be an ass but this was going too far. 

 

After hearing the news the progress she had seen in Becky receded and the redhead tried to withdraw into herself and hide the disappointment. 

 

Charlotte took it upon herself to not let her. She gave the fighter some time to process the new info but invited the rest of the team up to the hotel room for dinner that night. Making it abundantly clear to Becky that she needed to come and socialize even if she would rather be moping. 

 

“It’s jus’ not fair Charlotte. She can’t back out! It’s bullshit!” 

 

Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose. This hadn’t been the first conversation she had with Becky on this topic. “I know this sucks, but we still don’t have all the facts. Maybe everything will work out.”

 

Becky pouted as she sat against the headboard of her bed. “And if it doesn’t?”

 

Charlotte sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Listen to me, Becky.” She waited till the redhead met her eyes, “I’ve got no idea what’s coming. The fight could be rescheduled. You could get a new opponent. A million other things could happen, but right now you need to stop obsessing over something we can’t change, get out of this room and come spend some time with your friends. Give yourself a break.”

 

It took a few seconds but Becky nodded.

 

Charlotte let her hand momentarily rest on top of Becky’s. “That’s my girl. Now take some Dayquil and get your butt off this bed already. Liv was already asking about you. Wanted to know if you wanted a session tonight to help with the stress.”

 

The prospect of a good massage from Liv’s magic hands was enough to get Becky moving a bit faster. “No sense turnin’ down if she’s offerin’.”

 

She knew that Becky was still upset. It wasn’t hard to see if you knew what to look for. There was a forced sort of normalcy and upbeatness to the Irish woman’s words. Her smiles were larger and more perfect than a truly genuine one. Eyes shining with an artificial light, that was close to recreating the brightness she would see inside them when Becky was in her element and comfortable. 

 

“Just try and have some fun. Forget about Sasha for a couple hours.” Charlotte pleaded. Patting the top of Becky’s hand with her own several times. 

 

For a moment Charlotte saw a hint of a genuinely grateful smile. “Promise ta try.”

 

“Just give it thirty minutes. If you want to leave after then I won’t stop you.” Charlotte offered as she raised up to her feet off the bed and held a hand out to help Becky up. “Also, it’s time for some more Dayquil. How much water have you had?”

 

Becky rolled her eyes and grabbed a hold of Charlotte’s hand. “Enough,” she said while letting herself be pulled up to her feet till she was standing just inches away from the blonde. Close enough to where she actually had to tilt her head upwards to meet their eyes. “But thanks for… You know. That caring shit you do.”

 

Charlotte chuckled at the crude show of gratitude because of how Becky it was. Even when she was trying to be serious the redhead couldn’t help but try and lighten the mood. “You know it’s a lot easier when you let me.”

 

The fighter grinned up at her and one of her hands swept down Charlotte’s arm till the back of their hands rested against each other. Her pinkie gently pressing against Charlotte’s till she responded in kind and the two digits entwined. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  
  


**Bayley/Charlotte**

 

Bayley had just had one of her more emotionally exhausting days in recent memory. It was early evening now and she was sitting with a beer open in front of her as she considered trying to silence her brain in various ways. But she knew that would be more evasion than a solution to the turmoil in her gut. There was really only one thing for it.

 

She picked up her phone and hit dial over a familiar contact.

 

Charlotte sat on the bench idly scrolling through the latest news on her phone. Shane hadn’t been terribly forthcoming since their altercation yesterday and as a result, they were just as in the dark as everyone else right now. 

 

The hotel’s gym was tiny and not at all equipped for a high-level athlete to train efficiently but Bobby was making it work the best they could. 

 

She had been surprised when the redhead had accepted the offer to train, but in hindsight, she shouldn’t have been. Becky was obviously feeling a little cooped up and the unknown status of her fight wasn’t helping her anxiety. 

 

Charlotte had tagged along out of boredom and a desire to stay close the other woman. Just because they had a bit of a breakthrough didn’t mean Becky was magically not depressed. It was getting better but the news of Sasha dropping out of the fight hit the Irish fighter hard. 

 

When her phone began ringing Charlotte stood up and excused herself. Only getting a small nod from Lashley while Becky continued to perform a series of difficult cardiovascular moves. 

 

As soon as she was outside of the tiny gym Charlotte answered, “Hey.” Not knowing exactly what else to say the blonde fumbled and tried to think of a way to avoid pushing Bayley on the obvious elephant in the room, “Busy news day, huh.”

 

“Yeah...pretty much,” Bayley said, she tried to match Charlotte’s casual tone but she knew it would have been obvious to anyone how distracted she was.

 

Charlotte looked back through the window into the gym. Running her free hand through her long hair nervously. “Want to talk about it?”

 

Bayley closed her eyes. She was supposed to be the intuitive one but Charlotte had asked the right question. She DID want to talk about, but she wasn’t really sure how. So she decided to just blurt it out. “Meng Fifita came to see me today.”

 

“Oh… Not a social visit I take it?” Charlotte inquired softly. She’d let Bayley reveal at her own pace. 

 

“No...funny enough…” Bayley sighed “...He...wanted to talk to me about Sasha.”

 

“What about Sasha?” A tinge of worry seeping into the blonde’s words. Even though they weren’t friends Charlotte didn’t wish ill for the other woman. “Does it have to do with her pulling out of the fight? Or something else?”

 

“Kind of? Maybe?...” Bayley said unhelpfully. She knew she was probably being a frustrating conversational partner but she didn’t really know how to explain how she felt. “Without breaking any confidences...can I assume that Becky wasn’t at her best after the last press conference?” she finally asked.

 

Memories flashed through Charlotte’s mind and it took her a few seconds to respond. “No… she wasn’t.”

 

Bayley closed her eyes as she gave a nod Charlotte couldn’t see. “I thought not, neither was Sasha…” she then went on to explain what Meng had told her about how he’d found Sasha that night after the press conference. “He came to see me because Sasha apparently talks about me when she’s passed out. He was worried about her,” Bayley finished lamely.

 

“... What did you do with that?”

 

“He...asked if I would talk to her. I said no but...I...sent her a message,” Bayley said. Despite how weak it sounded just saying it was enough to send her insides twisting with anxiety.

 

“... How do you feel after?” Charlotte asked. 

 

“Shit Char, I wish I could answer that. Was I wrong to do that? I know she’s treated me like shit but it sounds like she’s in a terrible way. I don’t think he’d ever tell her, but I think Meng cares for her and he seemed kinda scared. Maybe it was something I should do, but now...I don’t know I’m kind of a mess,” Bayley admitted. She was babbling but she did not possess the command of language sufficient to articulate what she was feeling.

 

“Alright. Start with taking a deep breath. You’re getting lost in what-ifs.” Charlotte kept her voice calm. “Has Sasha replied yet?”

 

Bayley did as Charlotte suggested and took a long slow breath. It didn’t help her feelings but it did make her feel a bit more in control. “I just sent it an hour or so ago, so no not yet. I’m not even sure I want her to now,” Bayley admitted.

 

Charlotte wanted Bayley to be happy but it seemed like roadblocks kept getting thrown in her way. “Why did you send it then? What made you want to reach out at first?” 

 

“Full honesty here Char, I almost lied to you now. I was going to say it was all because she was a person in trouble and it was just the right thing to do. But I can’t even say that and pretend it’s the answer. I don’t know, sometimes I hate Sasha, but most of the time I don’t know how I feel about her. But it just felt right? At the time anyway. Now I’m a nervous wreck,” Bayley steadily built up speed as she said this until she was speaking at teenage girl tempo.

 

Charlotte bit back a small chuckle. “I know the feeling… The nerves are worse than the actual confrontation.” 

 

“Exactly!” Bayley said with a palpable sense of relief that Charlotte seemed to understand. “I’m like in Schrodinger's anxiety right now. I’m anxious over if she doesn’t answer at all, if she’s horrible to me again, or if she sounds like the Sasha I used to know. But I’m also scared for the moment she DOES answer. Am I making sense? Or do I sound as bat shit as I feel saying this?”

 

“No.” Charlotte caught Becky’s eyes through the window and smiled when the redhead quickly averted her eyes like she’d been caught staring. “Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”

 

Bayley sighed heavily. She had so much more she wanted to say but no idea how to say it. She also knew she was being selfish with Charlotte’s time at the moment. The other woman had to be absurdly busy at this moment and it would be wrong for Bayley to take up much more of her time. She knew Charlotte would make the time, but that wouldn’t help Bayley feel any less guilty.

 

“Char? Will you do me a favor?” she finally asked.

 

“What do you need?” 

 

“Are your evenings free while you’re in town?”

 

“As far as I know. Shane’s being quiet but has us sticking around for a bit longer than we were planning.” Charlotte informed her. 

 

Bayley half sighed half chuckled. “OK, so the favor is that I’m going to invite you over to my place while you’re in town. Could please pretend like it’s just a spontaneous chance for me to see my old friend and not an obvious set up for me to unload my crazy all over you for a few hours?”

 

“I can do that. Seems a small price to pay just to spend some time with a friend.” Charlotte answered happily. Her smile dropping slightly before adding, “Becky asked about you… Wanted to know how you’re doing.” 

 

Just a few seconds before Bayley would have sworn it would be impossible for her to feel even more anxious than she had been. This statement showed her how wrong she’d been. Swallowing hard she forced herself to think fast. She knew Charlotte wasn’t asking to make her uncomfortable, though that was the effect, and was probably filtering Becky’s words to some extent.

 

“You can tell her...tell her I’m OK,” she said, feeling guilty about the lie, and doubly so because Charlotte would now be aware of its falsity.

 

“I’ll be sure to tell her that… I know it’s not my place so I’m not going to tell you what to do or ask you to give her another chance. Just don’t guilt yourself too hard whatever you decide.” Charlotte tried to joke, but it came out more serious than she intended. 

 

Bayley bit her lip as she considered this. A second tornado of roiling emotions kicked up inside of her to match the one already there thanks to Sasha. But she quickly decided that she simply couldn’t deal with both at once. “We’ll talk about it more when you can make it over, tomorrow or the day after maybe?” She knew it was an obvious dodge but hoped Charlotte would let it slide.

 

“Whichever day works best. We can talk about whatever you want to. Or we can not talk about whatever you don’t want to.” Charlotte tried to lighten the mood, “Should I bring over any food?”

 

Bayley finally managed a small smile at this. “Actually, I thought I’d try to teach you how to actually cook enchiladas, pro tip….we don’t use flamethrowers.”

 

“Your wisdom is mind-blowing.” Charlotte deadpanned. “I suppose I can learn. Alexa actually taught me how to make some soup yesterday. Didn’t even ask for the help or anything. And damned if it wasn’t way better than what I would have made.”

 

Deciding it would be best not to comment on Charlotte’s cooking in general, Bayley said: “I’ll have to try it sometime, I could use some poisoning. What kind of  _ cervesa  _ do you want?”

 

“Whatever you’ve got. Long as I’ve got the good company the beer doesn’t matter too much.” The blonde answered back. 

 

“It’s a date!...” Bayley said, feeling calmer than she had all day “...And Char? Thanks.”

 

“Take care of yourself. Don’t let A.J. work you too much. Wouldn’t want you to be too tired to talk.” Charlotte stated with a grin. “See you soon.”

  
  


**Sasha**

 

Sasha’s phone had been buzzing so much over the last few days that she’d decided to simply let its battery die. This had worked, and it had stopped buzzing eventually. This left her in the solitude she told herself she wanted. She needed to be alone, she didn’t need or want anything else but to just be left alone.

 

Someone had once told her ‘keep repeating it until you believe it’. This had become her life’s mantra over the last few days.

 

Ever since her near nervous breakdown at the hotel, which Teddy had somehow managed to keep under wraps, Sasha had retreated into her home. She’d told Teddy she was withdrawing from the fight and hadn’t communicated with anyone since then. She knew her phone would be full to bursting with miss called and messages whenever she turned it back on...but she couldn’t begin to care.

 

Sasha was broken, and she knew it now.

 

She wasn’t better, and now she wasn’t even the Boss. The Boss, however toxic, had been large and in charge of her world. Now she was a scared girl hiding from the world in her echoingly empty home. She was ready to accept her fate now, she would wither in here and simply let the world pass her by. In the modern era, she knew that her story would be big for a few days until the next thing popped up. Then she’d be forgotten.

 

She had money, she could stay here and never leave again. She told herself that was what she wanted. And she’d almost convinced herself that it was what was best for the people around her. Teddy would simply find a new fighter, probably Kairi Sane. Meng would train her, and Sasha would keep the world at bay here. 

 

She had to, she couldn’t face it now. Knowing how she’d failed.

 

She’d proven that she couldn’t be better, that this was simply beyond her abilities. But she’d also shown that a single dip back into being the Boss was more than she could handle now. What did that leave her? She’d never known a middle ground, another way of living. And the world had made pretty clear it wasn’t interested in any version of her other than her worst. 

 

Her days since the press conference had become little more than a repetitive slog. She’d sleep until well past noon, trudge down to her kitchen where she’d begin drinking (she ate very little), and then she’d simply drop onto some piece of furniture (or even the floor) and lose hours simply lost in her own head. And she saw no reason for this to change.

 

Occasionally her doorbell would ring, but Sasha would ignore this as well. Only a few people could get through her driveway gate and she didn’t want to talk to any of them. One time she’d heard banging on her door and some shouting, but she’d simply retreated deeper into her house at this. That was one upside of the place, the building that had seemingly become her waking mausoleum, she had many places to hide.

 

She was fully aware of the consequences that would attend to her choices. After some time, Shane McMahon would strip her of her title under BFA rules. A new fight would be scheduled as quickly as possible to determine a new champion. The fight would, inevitably, be Becky Lynch vs someone else. Once that was done, and Becky would probably win, the world would move on just as Sasha had predicted.

 

Good, she thought. It could all rot.

 

Maybe it had been two days or possibly three, but Sasha finally thought that Teddy and his people were giving up on her. At least, no one had come to the door today. Unfortunately, Sasha was going to have to charge her phone soon. She needed to send someone to get her more liquor. Or did she? An idea hit her.

 

Padding down the stairs to the lowest level of her home, it wasn’t really a basement since it still had windows overlooking the ocean, Sasha opened the door to the room she used for storage. She was rewarded with the sight of a full pallet of ‘Boss Rum’. It had been sent here as part of her endorsement deal, which was probably null and void now. But she didn’t care, it was in her house so she was going to drink it.

 

And did she ever.

 

She woke up on the floor the next morning with a headache that, by all rights, should have killed her she thought. Cringing away from the sun streaming in through the large windows she saw nothing but two mostly empty rum bottles next to her head. But then something new happened.

 

Until this time, Sasha had more or less been completely numb. She hadn’t made her decisions to hide and isolate herself in a fit but almost lost in apathy. The knowledge that the world either wanted her at her worst or not at all, had made her sad at first. But since then she’d come to simply not care. But suddenly that damn burst.

 

A single sob snuck through her quivering lips, and then the tears began to flow. She was in a stained robe lying on the floor, stinking of rum, and balling. She couldn’t even have really said why she was crying. It was a million reasons and none all at the same time. She was oh so weary of a world that only wanted her worst, she was frustrated with herself for more reasons than she could count, and she was depressed at where she was now.

 

She cried for a long time, and she was crying so hard that she completely missed the sound of the doorbell. She also missed the knocking and, apparently, her door opening. In fact, she was so lost in her own sadness that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until someone cleared their throat directly above her.

 

“What the fuck?!” she snapped as she tried to shoot to her feet, only to learn she was still drunk. Her right leg went out from under her and she ended up falling onto her face.

 

“Graceful,” Meng taunted as he stepped back to look down at the woman at his feet.

 

“Get the hell out of my house,” Sasha muttered, her fall hadn’t been bad in itself. But it was terrible for her hangover.

 

“Oh I’m going to, but you need to start checking your goddamn phone,” Meng shot back.

 

“I don’t gotta do anything,” Sasha muttered as she finally sat up and refused to look at Meng. Despite her words, she found that she had actually missed her trainer in some small way. Just not enough to overcome her annoyance at his presence here right now.

 

“Very mature,” Meng muttered as he took something out of his pocket. “I figured you might feel that way so here,” he added as he dropped something on the floor next to Sasha. Sasha looked over and found her phone plugged into a battery pack.

 

“Congrats, you figured out some technology made after the nineties,” she muttered dryly.

 

Meng didn’t rise to the bait and instead just said: “You’ve got an email you need to read.”

 

Sasha glared up at him suspiciously for a while, thinking of just screaming at him to get out. But she knew that wouldn’t work, nothing short of her calling the cops would move him if she didn’t do as he said. So she decided she’d just look at the damn thing and then get him out of her hair. She unlocked her phone as Meng moved to stand by the windows, not looking at her.

 

Sasha opened her email, saw that she had over 500 messages waiting, but scrolled to the top. When she saw the message Meng had obviously been referring to, she nearly dropped her phone.

 

Her hands were trembling as though she’d just had the fright of her life, her mouth had already been bone dry but she was suddenly very aware of it. She was looking at a name she thought she’d never see again, at least not connected with an attempt to contact her. She gaped for a long time and only looked up when she heard the sound of Meng leaving.

 

“Why did you do this?” she asked his back as he reached the stairs.

 

“You’re my meal ticket,” came the off-hand response. Sasha didn’t have any time to reflect on this statement however, her eyes instantly went back down to her phone. As she stared at the message she suddenly found that she was nervous, terrified even, to open it. It could contain final confirmation of the damage she’d done, a final dismissal. She’d known it could be coming for a long time, even knew she deserved it. But she wasn’t ready to see it, she told herself.

 

She opened the message and read:

 

_ “Hello, Sasha…” _

 

As Sasha’s eyes darted back and forth down the message it was all she could do to keep from crying again. It wasn’t even the words, which seemed stiff and awkward. But it was just the fact that something she’d been hoping for so long had finally happened. Yet, it wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined it. Sasha hadn’t been expecting a profession of deep love if she ever heard from Bayley again, even she wasn’t that disconnected from reality, but it wasn’t as though Bayley HAD to reach out. That was good news, right?

 

“I’ll wait upstairs,” Meng said as Sasha read and re-read the message. It was as though the words were water and Sasha had been lost in a desert for years. As she heard his heavy footsteps retreating, Sasha wiped at her eye and called after him.

 

“Why?” was all she asked. Yes, he’d said she was his meal ticket but he’d also spent weeks making very clear that he’d happily quit. He could also simply begin working with Kairi Sane or one of Teddy’s male fighters. He didn’t have to be here, any more than Bayley had HAD to reach out.

 

Meng stopped on the stairs for a moment. But when he spoke, all he said was: “Clean yourself up.”

  
  


**Bayley**

 

_ “...Now joining us the final member of our panel, Bayley Martinez the owner and operator of MMAyley.com, Bayley welcome back to the show!”  _ the voice in Bayley’s earpiece said.

 

Smiling into the camera in front of her, Bayley said: “Glad to be back Montell.” Bayley had been booked onto Porter’s show last minute when one of his usual panelists had been forced to back out last minute. She was more nervous than she’d ever been before a TV hit, even her first. This was the first time she’d be part of a panel and would be interacting with more than just the host.

 

“ _ Alright ladies and gentlemen, only one topic today because...well…you all know. The biggest the story in sports right now is the news that BFA Women’s Bantamweight Champion Sasha Banks had reportedly indicated she will be dropping out of her hugely anticipated rematch with Becky Lynch. BFA President Shane McMahon has yet to confirm the fight is officially off, but assuming it is...panel, what will this mean for both women and for Brawl For All? Renee, we’ll start with you.” _

 

Renee Young, a columnist for the Chicago Tribune, said: “ _ Well it’s obviously a disaster for both Banks and BFA. Per their rules, Banks will be stripped of her title for refusing to defend it. For a woman who's already on very rocky ground thanks to the revelations about her personal life that could be the end of her ability to attract sponsors. As much as we’d like to think that MMA is all about the skill of the fighters, it’s a business too. It’s hard for me to see how she could bounce back from this. As for Shane McMahon, he’s on the hook for a TON of money. The payout for this fight was going to be huge, more than enough to cover the expenses. But if there is no payout this could be a huge hit for the company.” _

 

“ _ Mo? Have at it!”  _ Porter said, introducing Mojo Rawley into the conversation.

 

“ _ I’m with Renee in everything she said but I’d also add this is a disaster not just for Banks and BFA but for US! The fans! We thought we’d never to get to see a rematch between these two after Lynch hurt her knee. But against ALL ODDS the MAN has fought and clawed her way back here. We were all settling in for the fight of this century, and I am going to call it that, and then we have it yanked away from us!”  _ Mo’s familiar voice sounded in Bayley’s ear.

 

“ _ Mojo coming in hot! Alright, Aiden my man, go to it!”  _ Porter said. 

 

Aiden English, a former fighter who now did analyst work for ESPN cleared his throat and said: “ _ I’m taking an opposite stance here Montel-” _

 

_ “Shocking,”  _ Renee Young cut in with a chuckle.

 

“ _ I’m saying this is GOOD for the sport. Just imagine it now, think about all the attention that will be focused on the fight for the vacant Bantamweight Title, whenever that comes! We’re already hearing reporters that Shane McMahon has put out feelers toward Ronda Rousey to come out of retirement for a chance at the title. Can you imagine the hype? The Man vs the Baddest Woman on the Planet? There’s no way that finish isn’t perfect!”  _ English finished, ignoring Young.

 

“ _ OK, we ARE circling back to that but let’s head over to the rook! Martinez, you’re up!”  _ Porter said happily. Bayley clasped her hands together to prevent them from rising into the frame as she spoke and paused for a moment. She’d been speaking with a few more seasoned TV contributors and she’d been told that leaving a small pause could really work for you.

 

“Well, I know I’m the new girl but I’m also going to be THAT girl here and point out something we all forgot. This would certainly be bad for Sasha Banks and for Shane McMahon, and for obvious reasons. But I don’t think we should be assuming this is good for Becky Lynch either,” she said.

 

“ _ Uwww OK OK Martinez taking a road less traveled. Let’s stick with that for a moment. You are, after all, the Becky Lynch expert on the panel. But it would seem like the situation benefits Lynch. She has never beaten Banks. And now she might not have to try to climb that mountain to regain her title. A recently retired Rousey might even be a better matchup for her,”  _ Porter answered. 

 

Bayley took another moment to gather her thoughts. Porter’s reference to her being an ‘expert’ on Becky had caused a small uncomfortable wrench in Bayley’s gut. But she pushed it aside and said: “I don’t know if I’m an expert, I haven’t spent much time with her in a while, but I do know this. Becky Lynch is a hard worker and ferocious competitor. And I WILL say, that she’s known ever since she returned that her road went through Sasha Banks. And you can bet that even before this fight was announced, she was laser-focused on the moment they’d step back into the cage. I don’t want to diminish the title of course, but I don’t think it’s about a belt for Becky Lynch. She wants to prove to herself that she CAN beat Sasha Banks, and she can’t do that in a fight for a vacant title.”

 

It was English who answered, saying: “ _ That’s all well and good but let’s face the facts. No Banks fight means that she faces a fighter who hasn’t been preparing nearly as much as she has on short notice for a BFA title. Winning that title means bigger paydays and a higher profile for her and her team. And we all know that Charlotte Flair has been working very hard on that.” _

 

Bayley had been preparing for this, a direct challenge. She knew that, as a woman, others might be inclined to try and shout her down but that she also would come off bad if she came back to sharp. So, she simply smiled and said: “I get it, I do. But I think it would be a mistake to assume that Becky Lynch, or any other fighter on her level, has the same ‘economic view’ on her fights. She’s just made a few million from her Torres and Cross purses, it’s not like she’s living check to check. And I can say, from personal experience, that she’s not one for flaunting her money. As for Charlotte Flair, yeah she is working VERY hard on her gym and team. But if you’d seen some of their more knock down drag out arguments as I have, you’d know that Becky Lynch is fully capable of doing something that might not be the most ‘team first’ thing on an impulse.”

 

So chew on that, she thought to herself happily as Porter stepped in again. “ _ Alright, alright, let's spend a minute on the incident we assume was one of the reasons that Banks made her announcement. Namely, the LA press conference that was, to say the least, memorable. You all saw it, let’s get some thoughts and what effect it might be having on both fighters.” _

 

Bayley listened as Young, Mo, and English all gave their takes. The general consensus being that the disastrous results had been more or less inevitable for the two fighters if they were kept in proximity for enough time. Bayley kept her face pleasantly neutral but she couldn’t help but feel aggrieved in a small way that the others seemed to think so little of Sasha and Becky as people. This, in turn, brought up more complicated feelings that she didn’t have time to deal with.

 

When it was her turn she said: “I don’t think I, or anyone else, could sit here and applaud either fighter for a job well done. Well, not without indulging in mega levels of cynicism-”

 

“ _ Happy to!”  _ English interrupted.

 

“BUT…” Bayley pressed on “...I think if there is a problem here it’s got less to do with anything that happened at this press conference. I, for one, was applauding the London press conference. I think it’s kind of a sad commentary on us as a society that so many people were telling two women who were obviously working on personal issues to ‘get back to the drama’.”

 

_ “But both of these women knew that was part of the deal. Both of them are experienced in how the MMA world works, and they know what people expect. Would I maybe prefer a world where we could simply admire and encourage someone who is trying to ‘be better’? Yes, but it’s not THIS world. And I don’t think either Banks or Lynch can reasonably act surprised at how that first presser was received,”  _ Young countered. 

 

“Conceded, but my point still stands. I don’t think what we are seeing is the inevitable result of two combustible people simply left together too long. I think what we saw was more two people who were vulnerable in ways that most of us can’t understand. These same two people were subjected to not only the stresses of training on the road but also life under one of the most intense spotlights in sports. What happened in LA was, I believe, simply two people who had too much piled on them and broke. Imagine that, Banks stated publicly that she was trying to be a better person and Lynch was working on her sobriety. That’s hard enough for people in normal life. LA was just two people snapping,” Bayley explained.

 

“ _ But don’t you think that’s kind of letting them off the hook? I’ll concede the pressure they were under both professionally and personally, AND that it could not be easy. But they are ultimately responsible for their own actions and, as I said, they knew what they were getting into,”  _ Young countered.

 

“I won’t excuse anything that was done at that press conference. Frankly, they were both acting like children. But I don’t think this was inevitable as is being suggested AND I believe that it’s unfortunate that our media cycle contributed to relapse for both of them,” Bayley said, politely but firmly.

 

“ _ Oh boo hoo, poor Becky Lynch and poor Sasha Banks. I gotta disagree here Martinez, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t all deliberate on Lynch’s part. She can talk a big game but we all know that she had to be wondering if she can even compete with Banks. But maybe, if she spends a few press conferences needling Banks and finally gets her to blow up just right? Well, she ends up with what I was saying earlier. An easier fight. And what did it end up costing her? She took a few shots and had some booze dumped on her! I’d say that was a great trade,”  _ English broke in smugly.

 

Bayley felt a flash of anger at this insinuation. Becky had treated her horribly, and they might never speak again, but Bayley thought the assertion that she had deliberately tried to push Sasha toward a collapse was beyond far fetched. But then a tiny doubt whispered in her ear. Maybe not the Becky she wanted to remember, but what about the one who had left her that voicemail.

 

It was ultimately down to what she would choose to believe of the other woman. Or, more fundamentally, how Bayley would choose to view the world. The choice she made would ultimately say as much about her as it did Becky. 

 

“With all due respect, I think that’s more than a little unfair. Not only is there no evidence to suggest that, but Lynch’s sobriety was as much under strain as Banks’ character during the press tour. The idea that she would deliberately toss away something I know she struggles so hard with just to spite someone else is absurd.” Bayley weighed her next words carefully, wanting to speak the truth even if none of the viewers realized the deeper implications for her. “The woman I knew in Boston would never do that, she might have been reckless and a pain at times, but what you’re suggesting would have simply been cruel. And I choose to believe that Becky Lynch would not do something like that in her right mind.”

 

Of course, in her own mind, Bayley was speaking about more than the press conference. She hadn’t ‘forgiven’ Becky, not exactly. But she had just made the decision to believe she wasn’t a deliberately spiteful person at core. Bayley had been struggling with the idea that she was TOO forgiving, but now that she thought on it she found clarity. She realized she’d rather be too forgiving than a hoarder of grievances. Regardless of if she ever spoke to Becky Lynch again or not.

 

This epiphany notwithstanding, her response set the tone for the rest of the interview. She and English clashed repeatedly with rapidly declining levels of civility. By the time Porter ended the segment, Bayley had no doubt that if they’d been in the same room they’d have been at each other's throats. But she never let her smile slip and nodded graciously when Porter thanked her for coming on. 

 

“Of course Montell, any time,” she said. 

 

“ _ I’ll hold you to that, but now I have some breaking news for everyone…”  _ Porter said. The producer in front of her indicated that she was no longer on camera but Bayley kept the earpiece in to listen further. “ _ BFA President Shane McMahon has announced that he will be holding a press conference here in LA at 3 PM local time. It’s also been announced that representatives from Flair Combat Sports will be taking part but NOT members of Thuggin and Bugging Combat Sports.” _

 

“Well that was fast,” Bayley muttered as she removed her earpiece. She thanked the producer before making her way out of the studio, thinking the whole time. She’d known that Shane McMahon would have some kind of response, but she’d thought it might take more time. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who was scrambling because before she even reached the front doors she was intercepted by AJ Styles. They were in the ESPN LA studios and Styles’ office was just a few floors up.

 

“Bayley! Hey! Nice work with Porter, but I don’t think you’re getting an invite to any of English’s parties,” he said as he joined her.

 

“Yeah, those must be thrilling,” Bayley said dryly.

 

“What are you up to for the rest of the day?” Styles said, choosing not to respond to her comment.

 

“Well, whatever it was I’m not doing it any longer. I have a press conference to go to, and I bet you’d be happy to offer me credentials,” she said with a sly smile.

 

“I know it’s short notice, but it is for all of us,” Styles said with an apologetic shrug.

 

“I’ll be there,” Bayley said. Though even as she did she felt a weight of nervousness settle in her stomach. She would be there, but so would Becky.

 

What would that mean?

  
  


**Becky**

 

Becky was glued to the television. She had swapped to ESPN on a whim just to see if there was any more news on Sasha but now she couldn’t look away. 

 

At first, she had allowed Porter’s show to play while she worked on her laptop. Background noise for her sanity. With Charlotte out and the rest of the team enjoying the local area, the hotel room had been quiet. Silent to the point where Becky had nothing else to fill the void beyond her own thoughts and she quickly realized that needed to be avoided. 

 

Though she truly wanted to be better the road ahead terrified her. And the silence gave her plenty of time to contemplate the future. 

 

So, she had turned to her laptop and the television to keep her mind busy. Charlotte had told her that she would be back soon and that knowledge was the only thing keeping her from calling right now. 

 

She had been so focused on creating a new twitter account that when Bayley’s voice suddenly filled the room Becky comically fast whipped her gaze from one screen to another. 

 

Prior to this none of the other panelists, words had captured her attention. They may as well have sounded like the adults in Charlie Brown to Becky. 

 

There had been a reason why Becky always used to avoid watching ESPN. It was odd hearing people talk about you on television and she had never really wanted to get used to it. Even back in her old days before the injury, she had avoided listening or watching anything about her. 

 

If she had thought it was odd to hear a stranger discuss her, it was 3000 times weirder hearing an estranged friend do it. 

 

Bayley’s insight into her mind was frustratingly accurate. The title meant a lot to her but the fight with Banks had come to mean for more to her personally than any belt. Although the gold was a nice plus. 

 

The conversation inevitably turned to a discussion of their press conference. Even though Becky had avoided the news cycle she wasn’t under any false pretense. Her and Sasha’s fight would surely have been a topic throughout the day. From morning shows all the way through to the late night television there would be no shortage of hot takes. 

 

Nothing anyone else on the panel said really phased her. She knew how she was already perceived and the press conference wouldn’t have changed many minds. At least, not in a positive direction. 

 

The old familiar fire started to rise when one of the other panelists began to directly accuse her of intentionally causing the brawl. 

 

She could hardly hear his words over the rush of blood in her ears. Standing up simply so that she could get rid of some of the pent up energy that flooded her system. 

 

The remote was far heavier in her hand than it should be. She wasn’t even sure when she had picked it up, but she was seconds away from letting it fly straight through the front of the television when she finally heard Bayley’s response. 

 

_ “The woman I knew in Boston would never do that, she might have been reckless and a pain at times, but what you’re suggesting would have simply been cruel. And I choose to believe that Becky Lynch would not do something like that in her right mind.” _

 

Suddenly limp fingers lost their tight hold and the remote fell to the ground as Becky sat in shock. 

 

But she had. Hadn’t she? Becky had been unnecessarily cruel to Bayley. Taken out frustration and insecurity where it didn’t belong. 

 

Yet here she was on national television defending her when the journalist had every reason to honestly side with the other panelist and bury her actions without any benefit of the doubt. 

 

It confused Becky. She knew she didn’t deserve the brunette’s forgiveness. She hadn’t earned Bayley’s faith. 

 

Why would Bayley lie like that? 

 

She wouldn’t. Becky knew that. Bayley never said something she didn’t believe. 

 

But she couldn’t accept it. 

 

It felt too easy. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

 

Becky had been lost in her own little world and couldn’t recall anything more from the television. “When did you get back?”

 

“Just a few minutes… Did you want to talk about her?” Charlotte softly asked as she stepped around the back of the couch and bent down to pick up the remote from where it had fallen. 

 

“No… Not really.” Becky mumbled. 

 

Each step the blonde took closer was cautious. Muting the noise with the remote and sitting down next to the redhead who was staring down at her hands like they had the answers to all her questions. “We don’t have to… But it might make you feel a little better.”

 

“Did you hear what she said?”

 

“I did,” Charlotte answered and fell back into silence. Content to allow Becky to open up at whatever pace she felt comfortable with. 

 

The silence stretched for nearly a minute before Becky’s Irish accent filled the room. “Did she mean it?”

 

“She wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t.” For a few moments, Charlotte surveyed Becky’s response. It seemed as if she had known the answer before asking it. 

 

“I know you saw her… How is she?”

 

Charlotte knew what Bayley had said and for a moment she thought about exactly what she should say. “She wanted to let you know she’s ok.”

 

Becky nodded and dropped the subject. She didn’t want to linger on it any longer than necessary. Until Bayley wanted to talk there was nothing she could do. The practice was becoming easier and she wished it wasn’t. First Finn now Bayley. If Becky knew how to do anything it was alienate those close to her.

 

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Charlotte’s demanding voice. “Don’t do that.”

 

“Wha-”

 

“You get this look on your face when you’re thinking the worst of yourself. You’re doing it now.”

 

“No, I’m not.” Becky countered but quickly wilted under the knowing look Charlotte shot her way. “Ok… Maybe I am.”

 

Charlotte was about to respond when something on the muted screen caught her attention. “That son of a bitch.”

 

Becky was understandably confused. “What?” Turning her gaze slowly towards the television and the header underneath Porter.

  
  


**Charlotte/Becky/Bayley**

 

“You remember what Alexa told you?” 

 

Becky rolled her eyes at Charlotte’s worry and continued walking towards the stage. “Yep. Should be easy. There’s not much to say really.” 

 

Charlotte frowned. The nerves in her gut making it hard to let go. “If you’re sure.”

 

“I am,” Becky stated resolutely. Stopping on a dime and turning towards the blonde that nearly walked right into her. “Don’t worry so much. Despite what some may tell you it’s not cute.”

 

This time it was the blonde’s turn to roll her eyes. “Excuse me for worrying.” Crossing her arms while her bottom lip jutted out sharply. “I just don’t like having this thrown at you so last minute.”

 

For a moment Becky forgot what they were talking about. The genuine care she had felt from the rest of her team and Charlotte in particular still felt unearned. “Charlotte… I-”

 

“Two minutes Becky!” Yelled Pete Gas, one of Shane’s right-hand men. Otherwise known as one of Shane McMahon’s professional ass kissers. 

 

Becky closed her mouth at the interruption and one of hands came up to scratch the back of her neck. “I guess that’s my cue… Wish me luck?”

 

Charlotte could see that despite her assured exterior Becky was a bundle of nerves beneath it all. It had been little more than a day since the disaster of a press conference and the media hadn’t exactly been kind to either woman in the aftermath. She surprised both herself and her fighter by stepping closer and wrapping her arms around the shorter woman. 

 

She knew that this was strangely similar to the tableau they had created after the presser but neither woman brought it up. Content to sit in this moment and let the present slip away. 

 

“Good luck,” Charlotte whispered. Dropping a gentle kiss onto the crown of Becky’s head before she could think better of it. “I’ll be just off stage if you need me.”

 

Becky snickered but didn’t work to remove herself from Charlotte’s embrace. It felt much safer here than going out in front of the media. The room they had for this presser was smaller than the auditorium they had previous. It felt more intimate. More restrictive. Like the media was right on top of her. “I won’t.”

 

Charlotte smiled softly. If anything her grip tightened even more. “I’ll still be here if you do.” 

 

Bayley arrived much later than was her custom to the press conference. She usually liked to be there at least fifteen minutes before they began, but now she figured she’d be lucky if she didn’t miss anything. She’d made the mistake of reading Sasha’s latest message while she’d been at home and that had sent her into a spiral of circle thinking that she’d only just managed to extricate herself from.

 

When she’d realized what time it was she’d hurriedly dressed, not really paying much attention as she did, and then rushed across town. Which was no small feat in LA traffic. Now she was one of the last arriving media members and thus found herself standing at the very back of the small room.

 

No one was out on stage yet but now that she was finally here, she suddenly found that she could feel anxious about something else. Becky would be on the stage, the first time she’d seen the Irish woman since the fiasco at the last presser. Bayley wasn’t sure how to feel at the moment, even despite having so passionately defended Becky against Aiden English on TV. She seemed trapped in an endless cycle of reacting to crisis’ and wondering if she’d reacted correctly.

 

She sighed at this and put on her professional mask. Work was one of the best distractions for her, and she was here to work. She located one of the ESPN camera operators and identified herself, she then asked where the production van was. In sports media, speed was life, and if she could scoop some of the video clips they came away with first then she could get them out first on a story with her name on it.

 

She had just finished some good-natured haggling about her bribe that wasn’t a bribe when Shane McMahon walked out on stage.

 

Shane settled behind the main podium. A table set off to his right with a single chair unoccupied. He took time to clear his throat dramatically and make sure all eyes were on him before starting his statement. “I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. The rumors of Sasha Banks dropping out of the fight are, as of this time, true. We’ve been working to reach an agreement with her but haven’t made any headway. We are looking into possible replacements to fight for a vacant title should we not be able to reach a mutually agreeable decision with the current champion.” Shane looked up from the paper he was reading the prepared statement from. “Without any further ado, let me bring out the woman who  **will** be fighting that night for a title regardless of opponent, Becky Lynch.”

 

It was an oddly different atmosphere from the previous conferences. Rather than being packed with more fans than media, this was the exact opposite. Because of the nature of this one, only media had been allowed in. Becky felt naked walking out without the chorus of cheers and jeers from her and Sasha’s supporters. 

 

She made her way across the stage as quick as she could. Her head tilted downwards to avoid looking out at the assembled press. Maybe she wasn’t as ready for this as she wanted to think. Becky was grateful for the table hiding the nervous bounce of her foot to an unheard beat. 

 

“Now that all that is out of the way we would love to take your questions. We might not have perfect answers for you right now but we will be as forthcoming as we can.” Shane offered with a smile. Holding out an insincere hand of care to disguise the one working behind his back.

 

Becky visibly let some of the tension out of her shoulders when the first question went to Shane asking for clarification on some of his statement. Now that she was actually out here Becky wanted to be anywhere but. Idly picking at the stray threads from the hole she had worn in her relatively new jeans and avoiding looking out at the crowd. A not so silent part of her worried about what they all thought of her. Offering up the insults and disappointment she knew were there in their heads.

 

Bayley wasn’t bothering to try to video or record the presser, at the distance she was from the stage it wouldn’t be worthwhile. Unfortunately for her, this left her with nothing to do but study the stage. She continued to feel a sort of low-grade contempt for Shane McMahon but as soon as Becky made her way out onto the stage Bayley found herself unconsciously edging behind the man in front of her. Her hand going to the necklace she wore as she did.

 

Even from her current range, Bayley could tell that Becky was not at 100%. She seemed to be moving slower than normal and Bayley thought could see dark circles under her eyes. Yet despite this, she also had to work to keep the ghost of a smile from her face. She’d noticed that, despite how new Becky’s jeans looked, there was already a noticeable hole in them at the spot the other woman loved to pick.

 

She was still studying this when someone further in front called: “Mr. McMahon, is there any indication yet as to why Banks has decided to back out?”

 

Shane answered quickly, “That would require us having talked. All I have is a message from her saying she’s dropping out. Your guess is as good as mine.”

 

Becky perked up a bit at that. Hearing Sasha had dropped out of the fight had been a sledgehammer to her ego. More than anything in the world the redhead needed to fight Sasha. Her career wouldn’t be over until she had another shot at the woman. She could win a hundred fights and multiple titles but she needed to avenge the loss or none of it would mean anything. 

 

“Becky, what are your thoughts on all this?”

 

The Irish woman in question had been so inside her own head she had sort of forgotten why she was out here. Leaning uncomfortably forward towards the mic and trying to gather her thoughts. “Uhh- I ummm… Sorry, what was your question again?” A frazzled Becky asked. 

 

The reporter gave her a look but repeated the question. 

 

“I uh… I don’t know. Feel like I’m just as in the dark as you all.” Becky said, making only minimal effort to hide the irritation she felt towards Shane. “What I do know is that I want to fight Sasha Banks. I  **need** to fight her.” A sliver of the true depth of that statement sifting through. “So, I guess I just hope she figures out her shit and we can get to punching each other again.” 

 

Bayley was now listening intently, too wrapped up in her professional role to be caught up in her own emotions. What Becky had just said sounded almost like an admission that she...well, ‘liked’ was the wrong word. But maybe assigned Sasha a great deal of importance in her life. For an absurd moment, Bayley almost wanted to ask a question. But then someone else spoke up.

 

“Shane, can you give us any names as to who might be stepping in if Sasha can’t go?”

 

Shane grinned like he knew something everyone didn’t. “We have a few names in mind. While we haven’t given up on getting Banks for the fight we’ve been making calls all night. We’re in talks with Ronda’s camp and-”

 

Becky scoffed into the mic. The look Shane gave her would have stopped most anyone in their tracks. “I’ve got no problem sending her back into retirement on another loss but not before me and Sasha settle this.” She hadn’t come out here with the intent to essentially threaten the owner of the BFA but Becky felt like she had nothing to lose here. The fight with Sasha was far more important than any fine Shane could throw her way. 

 

For the first time on stage Shane let a little of the real him out, “You’ll fight who we tell you to.” Quickly gathering himself back and flashing a smile to the press. “See what I deal with every day? No wonder I have so much gray in my hair.” He awkwardly transitioned to a joke. A portion of the press just laughing along to stay in his good graces. 

 

Becky growled lowly but bit her tongue and sat back in her seat. Arms crossed across her chest like a shield. Just a few minutes in and she was already feeling her irritation and stress mount. 

 

Bayley exchanged a glance a few of her neighbors at this last exchange. McMahon had just publicly slapped Becky down in a way that he rarely did with anyone at these events. No one wore a mask of false congeniality with more ease than Shane McMahon, yet he had chosen to do so. Her instincts perked up at this, wondering what the real reason for it was. 

 

Bayley scanned the crowd toward the front, in particular, the people sitting. She hoping to see one of two familiar heads of blonde hair but couldn’t find either Alexa or Charlotte. Deciding to file her question away for later Bayley began to psyche herself out. She knew what she had to do, she’d certainly done it before, but now it felt almost impossible.

 

“Shane, has Thuggin and Buggin reached out to you yet? Is that scheduled?” someone asked.

 

“We’ve been in touch with her team, but we don’t have any meeting planned… Yet.” Shane added cheekily, always happy to play with the press. “But if we can’t figure something out soon it will likely be Ronda Rousey versus Becky Lynch for the vacant title.” He added. Shane wasn’t above using this platform to try and bait Sasha back. 

 

Becky rolled her eyes but stayed silent this time. She tried her best to ignore the man and focus on not losing her still fragile grip on reality. Part of her wanted to just pull up the old walls, sit back and let ‘The Man’ run things for a bit but shook the thought away before it grew. Choosing to try and distract herself by absentmindedly scanning the crowd. 

 

The normal assortment of reporters littered the hall. She had seen some of these faces far too often because of this press tour. 

 

Her foot stopped tapping and Becky froze on stage when she spotted Bayley in the crowd. It was undeniably her. Even with half of her hidden behind a much larger man, Becky could tell. She averted her eyes quickly and stared down at her lap. Slumping ever so slightly down in her chair as the memory of the voicemail played in her head. 

 

For half a moment Bayley thought she noticed Becky’s eye on her but she took another half step behind her blocker. She wasn’t ready, not yet. ‘ _ Come on your dummy, you do this all the time!’  _ she stormed at herself internally.

 

“Becky, any regrets over what happened at the last press conference?” Someone asked. Bayley turned and realized that it was Mojo.

 

The redhead looked back up and couldn’t stop her eyes from quickly flitting back to peer over towards where she had spotted Bayley. Moving her gaze away just as quickly when she noticed the brunette had stepped a little further behind her human barrier. She focused on trying to answer Mojo’s question rather than lament the fact that Bayley felt the need to hide. “I’m actually glad you asked that. I want to uhh say sorry to Sasha first and foremost. I shouldn’t have hit her first.” Becky spoke with honesty, but she couldn’t help but adding, “Even if she was being a cunt.”

 

“Isn’t that a bit hypocritical coming from you?” An old familiar voice spoke up. 

 

The mere sound of which had Becky sitting up a bit straighter. Anger and anxiety quickly spiking at the words. 

 

“Mandy Rose. Host of the Rose Report on ESPN.” She said in a tone that made her credentials seem like a brag. “You’re acting like you were the victim here when you were clearly as much a reason for the escalation as Ms. Banks.”

 

Becky bristled and spoke in a clear concise tone. “Is there a question there? I admit I wasn’t helping matters but-”

 

“So what you’re saying is that Sasha was mostly at fault here? That she should be held more responsible than you?”

 

Becky was trying very hard to keep her cool. Closing her eyes and squeezing one of her fists so tightly that she swore her fingers began to audibly creak. “No. That’s not what I said. What I’m trying to s-”

 

“So you were antagonizing her on purpose despite her heartfelt words in London about wanting to be a better person?”

 

Bayley was grinding her teeth so hard she was worried she might end up spiting powder. She hated what both Becky and Sasha had been doing at the presser. It had been childish and embarrassing for both of them. And if she thought for one minute that Mandy was trying to prod Becky into giving a genuine answer she wouldn’t have cared. But she knew better.

 

It was hard for Bayley to accept that at one point she’d looked up to Mandy. She’d thought she was an MMA media superstar. With the benefit of hindsight, she thought that this might have been the dumbest thing she’d ever believed. But one good thing did come out of it now, it pushed her into doing what she knew she had to now.

 

Becky was biting her tongue so hard she could taste the coppery flavor of her own blood. She wanted so badly to tell Mandy off, but after the last press conference, she wasn’t in much of a position to do so. “It’s the fight game. Sasha knows that.”

 

Mandy fired back so quickly she might as well have known what Becky’s response was going to be. “I see. So it was Sasha’s fault. There always seems to be someone else for you to blame.”

 

“Now you listen ‘ere! I didn’t come out here for ya ta keep puttin’ words in me mouth.” Becky began to gather steam as she stood up out of her chair and glared at the unphased blonde reporter. 

 

Before Mandy could speak again, Bayley stepped out from behind her human shield. Becky was glaring at Mandy Rose while Shane was doing his best not to grin. Clearing her throat she called: “Did you learn anything?”

 

Charlotte could see how much strain Mandy was putting on her fighter and had enough. Becky had dealt with the old stress admirably but Charlotte could only take so much before her newfound protectiveness made it impossible to sit back. She had one foot on the bottom step to the stage when Bayley’s question stopped her in her tracks. 

 

“Excuse me…” Mandy said quickly, sounding exactly like a petulant child who’s friends weren’t doing what she wanted  “...I was asking a question-”

 

“No…” Bayley said, in a voice much more commanding than was usual for her “...You were grandstanding, some of us actually DO want to ask questions though.” Rose was so shocked by this completely out of character response from Bayley that her mouth hung open for a moment. Bayley took advantage of this pause to turn to the stage again and ask: “Did you learn anything from the press conference?”

 

For a second Becky forgot that Mandy was even there. Even knowing Bayley was in the crowd hadn’t prepared her an actual interaction. She tried to school her face but knew that she wasn’t fooling anyone who knew her well enough. “I’d like to say I learned some grand lesson but it mostly just reaffirmed what I already should have known. I… I know I’ve made mistakes and I don’t want to let them define me anymore.” Becky had been subtly avoiding looking at Bayley the whole time she spoke until now. “I think I’m realizing more and more that the people surrounding me are worth more than any belt.” 

 

Becky took a deep breath and sat back down. Her heart was pounding. Bayley was offering her a chance. It said something that she did it in public but it meant that she wasn’t so far gone with the reporter that salvaging something from the wreckage wasn’t impossible. 

 

With a hint of the real Becky sneaking through her attempt at professionalism, she added, “Not that I don’t still want to slap Sasha’s head off her little puppets shoulders and reclaim my title. Just not as much fun with no one around.”

 

Bayley's stomach was once again roiling but she also felt a momentary burst of anger. She wasn’t ready to let Becky off quite so easily. Mandy started to try and speak again but Bayley simply rode over her saying: “Lessons aren’t useful unless they are applied, what plans do you have to follow through on these conclusions?”

 

Becky honestly hadn’t expected Bayley to do this here. Her mouth flopped open but no sound came out and she looked off the stage towards Charlotte. The blonde had no sympathy and held her hands up as if to say ‘you’re on your own for this one’. She stumbled right out the gates, “Well… You see I uh…” stopping in mid-sentence and taking another second to try and organize her thoughts. “Obviously what I’ve been doing hasn’t been working. You all saw that during the last few press conferences. Me and Sasha can bring out the worst in each other but that’s no excuse. For the remainder of my camp and press, I’ve uh volunteered to stay with someone who will help me with that. I’ve also informed the people around me what’s happening so they can also help keep me accountable.”

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. She had been there when Becky had a heart to heart with the rest of the team but they hadn’t discussed her staying with someone. Only a fleeting mention that Becky didn’t like being alone. 

 

Becky continued on. Unwilling to stop now that she finally had a chance to speak to Bayley. Even if it was in such an oddly public and business-like forum. “They can only help me so much though… I want to be better. I don’t want people to look at me and just see Becky Lynch the fighter. I can’t simply move on ya know? I’ve got to live with what I said… and did. Much as I wish I could take it back I can’t. Just have to hope people see that I’m trying. Even if it takes a long time.”

 

Bayley kept her face impassive even as she tried to digest everything Becky had said. Part of her wanted to rush the stage and hug the other woman. Another part of her wanted to scream and rage at her. Rather than either of these two extremes, she asked a final question: “You don’t want people to just see you as just a fighter, understandable. But, taking into account everything from this press tour, your comeback, and...your personal life. How DO you want to be seen? How do you want to be remembered?” 

 

“Personally or professionally? Professionally I want to make my mark on this sport. I want people to think of me and remember all the fights. To remember all the blood and tears I’ve left in that cage and never question my passion for it. Most of all I want to go down as one of the greatest to ever step in there and I can’t do that without Sasha Banks. Personally… I hope people will eventually remember me as a deeply flawed person who tried to be more than that.” Becky concluded, unable to look at Bayley any longer. 

 

She’d been interviewed by the journalist a few times before but it had always been more laidback. Even when Bayley had asked hard questions her face always gave her away and Becky could see it was hard for her to ask some of them. She should have expected it but Bayley’s stoic professionalism made it so much harder to do this. It was her fault though. She needed to face the results of her callous actions and hiding from it was a cop out

 

Becky looked back to the other woman and added, “I understand that I can’t magically change how people look at me. It will take hard work and time… But I’m willing to keep trying till they do.”

 

Before Bayley could say anything else, McMahon jumped in. “Perhaps someone else has a question?” he promoted. Bayley didn’t object and simply took a step back to indicate she was done. Mandy shot to her feet but was drowned out by the sudden barrage of overlapping voices. The rest of the press conference was a bit anticlimactic after her exchange with Becky, and Bayley felt secure in ducking out early.

 

She’d been intending to head back out to the production truck but then something held her back. Instead of turning right toward the exit, she turned left and headed down a hallway that would lead to the backstage area of the stage. When she finally reached the door she found it blocked by a large man with the undeniable air of a security guard.

 

“No admittance,” he growled down through his beard. Bayley simply lifted her press pass for him to inspect. “That’s nice, but it don’t get you back here,” the man, whose name tag read ‘Rowan’, grumbled. Bayley was about to simply turn around and concede the point when the door behind the man opened.

 

Charlotte started to walk away from the stage after things had settled down. Luckily Mandy had decided to stay quiet for the rest so things went much smoother. 

 

She made her way through the backstage area hoping to find an isolated spot so she could make a call to Bobby but stopped after opening a door and being greeted with one of the larger men they had working security blocking Bayley from entering. “Hey Bayley.” She looked towards the man she vaguely remembered hearing called Eric. 

 

“You know her?” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. 

 

Charlotte sighed. “Yeah, I do. She’s a friend. Mind letting her through. I know you're just doing your job but she won’t cause any trouble.”

 

Rowan seemed to think it over for a moment. “Fine. They don’t pay me enough to care anyway. If she does cause trouble it will be on you.”

 

The blonde just smiled. “I can deal with that.”

 

Bayley was already regretting her spur of the moment impulse decision to make her way back here but didn’t protest as Charlotte beckoned her backstage. She trudged after her for a few moments, her nerves nearing true panic with each passing step. More to distract herself than because she wanted to know she asked: “You still coming over tomorrow?”

 

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. She could tell something was bothering the other woman but would let her reveal in her own time. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

Bayley kicked herself internally, she should have known Charlotte wouldn’t just let her babble. “Look, Char, I honestly don’t even know why I came back here and now I’m worried it might be a mistake. But I do need to ask, is Alexa here?”

 

The blonde blinked several times. That wasn’t exactly what she had been expecting. “I uhh… She’s just backstage. Saw her a few minutes ago. Want me to call her?”

 

“No, no, I guess I’ll do it later. Just…” Bayley wasn’t sure how to finish her statement as her mind worked furiously. Unconsciously, her hand moved to her neck to rub her thumb over the chip that hung there. Finally looking up at her friend, Bayley managed: “Just tell her that I’m glad she’s trying again.”

 

Charlotte nodded and swallowed as her eyes followed the movement of Bayley’s thumb. “You weren’t wearing that last time I saw you.” 

 

Bayley looked down as though she was just noticing the chip. “Oh...I…I don’t know it felt right to wear it today, I can’t explain it.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Charlotte blurted out of nowhere. 

 

Bayley just blinked in surprise at this response before she managed to ask: “What?”

 

Charlotte blushed and scratched the back of her head bashfully. She had meant to be a little more smooth than that. “I’ve been talking with Molly lately and she helped me realize something.”

 

“OK…” Bayley said slowly “...Who’s Molly?”

 

“Oh… I haven’t mentioned her?” Charlotte asked. A bit surprised when Bayley shook her head. “Huh… My bad then. Molly is the therapist I’ve been seeing.”

 

“OK, well there’s the ‘whom’, now I’m still unclear on the ‘what’,” Bayley said, still sounding confused. She thought she could probably count on half a hand how many times she’d ever heard Charlotte Flair simply blurt something out. “What are you apologizing for?” she asked, suddenly unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

 

“I mean it’s really nothing that big.” Charlotte rambled. Looking to buy herself a few seconds before admitting, “Molly helped me see that… you know… I’ve been sort of… Uhh jealous… Of you.” The blush returning as she found it hard to meet Bayley’s expression. “More specifically of Becky wanting to uhh spend time with you.”

 

Anything, Charlotte could have told Bayley literally anything else and she felt she would have been less surprised. The possibility that Charlotte might be jealous of her, over anything much less this, had never occurred to Bayley. Though they were about the same age she somehow always thought of the blonde as older, more experienced, and having more of life figured out than herself. It was so surprising that, at first, Bayley had no idea how to respond.

 

“You were...sorry, I want to make sure I heard you. You were...jealous of me?” Bayley asked, speaking almost as though she wished Charlotte would yell ‘not’ at any moment.

 

Charlotte nodded while she chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Yeah. I wouldn’t have admitted it back then. To you or myself. I think I was a little jealous from the very beginning at how quickly Becky trusted you… And that was before… You know. She uhh showed interest.

 

Bayley thought about pointing out that the very first words Becky had ever said to her were an angry challenge but decided against it. She was aware that Becky had, in fact, come around to her very quickly. She’d been all the more amazed by this the more she’d gotten to know the fighter. Though Becky would have hated this comparison, the fighter always reminded Bayley of a wild animal that you’d held out food too. There would be a great deal of hesitation, false starts, and retreats before she’d ever get close to you.

 

But she’d never once considered how that might be affecting Charlotte. Not really anyway. If she’d thought about it at all, she’d supposed she’d have thought she might be doing her a favor. But then she remembered just how early on in their friendship she’d realized that Becky and Charlotte had some kind of feelings for each other. With this in view, her own behavior suddenly appeared selfish.

 

But she also knew just how hard this kind of apology would be for a woman as proud as Charlotte. So she filed her own feelings away for the moment and just stepped forward to hug the taller woman saying: “Thank you.”

 

Charlotte let the other woman hug her. Looping one arm around to grab her back. “I don’t blame you by the way. For getting close to Becky. She was looking for someone to just treat her like a person and I wasn’t giving her that… Thank you for being there for her.”

 

Bayley held Charlotte for longer than she’d intended. When she finally did speak all she said was: “Can you tell her...I wasn’t quite ready.”

 

Charlotte didn’t want to push the other woman too fast. “We’re going to be in town for another two days… If you suddenly feel ready I’m sure she’d drop whatever she was doing… You don’t have to forgive her but I know she wants to talk to you.”

 

Bayley felt a sudden tug of guilt and sadness at this, but she knew that this wasn’t the time. Not yet. But it also gave her the seed of an idea which she put aside for the moment. Instead, she gave Charlotte another squeeze and said: “I’ll try.”

 

A sad smile crept onto Charlotte’s lips. Nodding along to the answer. It was the best she could expect right now. “All I can ask.” Her thoughts suddenly shifting, “Wait… Did you say why you wanted to see Alexa? I know I sent her to give you some help. You two working together still?”

 

Bayley bit her lip as she separated from Charlotte. This was still Alexa’s information to share, but on the other hand, Charlotte seemed to already know something was up with the other blonde. In the end, this second point proved a persuasive argument. “Has...has Alexa seemed a bit more...personable lately?”

 

Charlotte thought it over. “I just assumed she finally got laid. But I suppose more personable sounds nicer.” She joked. Truth be told she had thought that a new relationship might have been the cause for Alexa’s subtle change but something was telling her there was more going on here. 

 

“Asking people how they are? Using first names? Looking up from her phone? Small touching?” Bayley prompted.

 

Charlotte’s suspicions were well and truly raised. “She’s been much better. I’ve watched her catch herself a few times when she thinks no one’s watching… I feel like you know more than you’re saying… But luckily for you, I’m not a reporter.” 

 

Bayley smiled ruefully at this as she said: “At this rate, she might end up with one of these.” As she said this she reached up and flicked her side pony for emphasis.

 

The blonde shook her head. “Is that the source of your power? You shouldn’t tell people.”

 

Bayley actually managed to laugh as she reached out, took a handful of Charlotte’s hair and held it up in a sloppy approximation of her own. “Just say the word, whenever you like Char. But yeah...I MAY have been giving Alexa a pointer or two.”

 

“It all begins to make sense now.” Charlotte teased before getting serious. “Whatever you’ve been doing is great. She went to the right person.” 

 

Bayley nodded and said: "Well, I did my best. Not sure if you wanted a shorter blonder Bayley around though."

 

“Don’t mind it so much,” Charlotte said. Although the image of a shorter blonde version of her friend in her mind’s eye actually creeped her out a bit. “It’s funny. I never would have thought she’d go to you of all people but it actually sort of makes sense.”

 

“Why not me?” Bayley asked, some defensiveness creeping into her tone despite herself.

 

“I’m still sorry about it by the way… But after what happened in Boston I wouldn’t expect her to think of you.” Charlotte admitted while scratching the back of her neck. She still felt horrible about the way she had let Bayley go. “Obviously she has a good eye for talent.” Smiling wide in a conciliatory fashion. 

 

Bayley decided not to leave her friend twisting and simply pushed past the unpleasant memory. “She actually apologized too!... She apologized in an awkward and off-putting way that didn’t feel like an apology but she did actually do it.”

 

Charlotte laughed lightly. “I’d have expected as much. A few months ago I would have been shocked that she even attempted an apology.”

 

“Believe me, no one was as happy as I was,” Bayley said with a grin that faded slightly after a few moments. “Char, I’m sorry but I don’t think I can stay any longer. I’ll see you soon OK?”

 

“Of course. Do what you need to Bay. I should probably be moving along anyway. Before we go back to Boston we’ll find the time.” Charlotte offered and gave the other woman a quick parting hug. “Now, get out of here. I’m sure you’ve got enough on your plate with everything going down.”

 

“Oh, only the biggest story in the history of the sport and a crumbling personal life, the usual,” Bayley said with a smile as she hugged Charlotte back before she turned and left.

 

Charlotte shook her head at the woman’s blase attitude and turned off to continue where she had been going before running into Bayley. 

 

She had a redhead to get to the gym and plenty of calls to make. 

  
  


**Sasha**

 

Sasha Banks looked at her laptop and sighed. She’d never been any kind of a wordsmith in any medium, but writing had been extra difficult for her. Though she was honest enough with herself to admit that the message she’d just written would have taken a muse some time. How do you respond to someone who you’d kicked and scorned who then chose to reach out to you in your lowest moment?

 

She’d done her best, though she was under no illusions that it was good enough. Maybe ‘good enough’ wasn’t even possible in this case.

 

_ Bayley _

 

_ You know I suck at this stuff so I just want to say I’m sorry, I am so fucking sorry Bayley. I know you got no reason to give a shit about my apology and I’ve been coward for not giving you one before this. But I’m sorry, I’m a fucking shithead. You don’t have any reason to care about this but I wanted to say that I’ve missed you so much. My life has been so fucked up, and I’ve been a bitch that deserved it, but I never stopped missing you. I should have listened to you so many times Bayley. I should have listened and stopped being the boss when you warned me. But I didn’t and I got what I deserved. I tried to be better Bayley I really did. It was real. But I guess I just can’t be. But if there was anything good in my life it was you. I don’t know how to say how it felt when I saw your message. But it was really good. I know I got no right to ask you this and if you want to tell me to fuck off I understand. But could we maybe keep talking like this? _

 

_ Love Sasha _

 

Sasha hesitated for a long time about the second to last word. She thought she loved Bayley, but she now doubted that she even knew what that was. She was also worried that it might be pushing Bayley too far, that it might drive her off. But she left it in ultimately, simply because she knew that she WANTED to feel that way.

 

She just had to take the risk. Maybe the scariest one of her adult life.

 

But she did eventually hit send, before standing and looking around listlessly. She now had what amounted to unlimited free time and she had no idea what to do with it. Sasha’s whole life had been about fighting and training for so long that she didn’t know what else to do when it was just her. She didn’t really have hobbies or interests, there had never been time.

 

Somehow she found herself downstairs sitting on her couch watching TV. She wasn’t paying attention to what was on the screen, her mind was just drifting. She probably would have stayed like that for the rest of the day if she hadn’t been startled by the sound of her door opening. She had shot to her feet when she saw that it was Meng.

 

“Get the hell out of my house!” she snapped.

 

“No,” was the only reply she got as Meng closed and locked the door behind himself. Sasha wasn’t quite sure what to do with this response so she fell silent for a few moments.

 

“What do you want?” she finally asked. She had suspected she might see her trainer again after he’d delivered Bayley’s message, but she hadn’t been looking forward to it. The last thing she wanted was someone trying to pressure her back into the fight. 

 

“To see you,” Meng said laconically. He’d removed his shoes and walked straight past where Sasha was standing and toward her kitchen.

 

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Sasha muttered before deciding to trudge after him. She found him with his head in her refrigerator muttering in annoyance.

 

“Fuck, do you have ANY food in this house?” he complained. 

 

“Well, by all means, fuck off out of here if the menu isn’t too your liking,” Sasha responded acidly. Meng didn’t of course, he just closed the fridge and starting opening cabinets. He made satisfied noise after a short search and emerged with a box of cereal.

 

“Well? You’ve seen me, you can go now. And leave your damn key, I’m pissed that Teddy gave it to you,” Sasha said more forcibly. But her annoyance only increased as Meng ignored her words, took a seat at the large counter, and began to eat out of the box.

 

“Looks to me like you need something to do anyway,” he said around a mouthful of Life cereal.

 

“Well get your damned eyes checked old man and get out,” Sasha snapped, her voice rising.

 

“That how you talk to the person who brought you Martinez’s message?” Meng asked casually.

 

Sasha was taken aback by the unexpected mention of Bayley but she recovered quickly. “Thank you…” she said in a voice that started sarcastic but ended cold “...But that’s none of your business.”

 

“No...it’s not…” Meng agreed, which surprised Sasha. But then he went on to say: “My business is you, Banks.”

 

Sasha’s eyes narrowed as she said: “I’m not taking the fight, so you can go back and tell Teddy that-”

 

“Teddy doesn’t know I’m here, the poor bastard has been up to his eyes trying to clean up the mess you dumped into his lap,” Meng said plainly. Sasha supposed she should feel guilty at this but she was too annoyed to access it right now.

 

“Then you really don’t have any reason to be here,” Sasha growled.

 

“I told you, I’m here to see you. I’m checking on a fighter,” Meng replied with maddening casualness.

 

“I just told you I’m not-” Sasha began to say but Meng cut her off.

 

“I don’t give a fuck if you take the Lynch fight or not, I get paid either way,” he said.

 

“You’re not making sense,” Sasha grunted as she took a seat at the far end of the counter.

 

“Even you can’t be this fucking stupid,” Meng sighed.

 

“Fuck you!” Sasha shot back.

 

“Why am I here Banks?” Meng asked her.

 

“I keep ASKING you that so I can figure out how to get you to fucking leave!” Sasha almost shouted. Again, Meng annoyed her by not firing back.

 

“What do I do?” he asked.

 

“What?” 

 

Meng rolled his eyes and spoke as though he were explaining that one and one made two. “You can’t be going deaf and be this dense Banks. What do I do?”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sasha demanded her confusion feeding into her anger. When Meng didn’t do more than raise an eyebrow she said: “You losing your memory you ancient fuck? You’re a trainer.”

 

“Why?”

 

Sasha raised hands hooked like claws at this response, the whole exchange was infuriating. “Maybe you just enjoy being an annoying sack of shit!” she snapped.

 

“I don’t need your money Banks, I’ve got more than enough tucked away to keep me in Mai Tai’s and college girls for the rest of my life,” Meng said, making Sasha shudder.

 

“Good for you,” she muttered.

 

“I’m old enough to retire, so why am I still doing it?” 

 

“I don’t know? And I don’t give a shit!” Sasha snapped.

 

“The same reason I bet that aside from now and when I brought you the message from Martinez, all you’ve been doing is sitting around and moping. Just counting the time as it goes by,” Meng said flatly. The accuracy of this statement caught Sasha so off guard that she forgot to give some kind of hostile retort. That had been exactly what she’d been doing. 

 

Wetting her lips she said: “I’m fine, I don’t need your help.” Even as she said it she wondered if it was the least convincing thing she’d ever said. Including the times she’d told Zelina that she loved her.

 

“Uh-huh,” Meng answered, clearly he had as much scorn for Sasha’s answer as it deserved. Which was to say, a lot.

 

“You got some kind of a point to make?” Sasha asked, recovering some of her belligerency. 

 

“Yeah, I do…” Meng said evenly and yet somehow he seemed to swell as he spoke “...You got no idea how lucky you are Banks. And you shouldn’t be pissing it away hiding here.”

 

Sasha gave an epic eye roll at this. “Oh fuck, you aren’t seriously going to hit me with the ‘you grew up poor and look at all the money you got now, other people would love your life’ bullshit are you?” She asked this impatiently because several people had felt free to lecture her about this in the past.

 

Meng barked a laugh. “I’m not fool, I know you don’t give a shit,” he said.

 

Sasha waited for him to continue but when he didn’t she was forced to ask: “Well?”

 

“Money ain’t got shit to do with it,” he said as he finally set his box of cereal aside, Sasha guessed it was empty. “You and I are too much alike for my comfort, Banks,” he said after another considering pause.

 

“Fuck...that!” Sasha growled.

 

Meng pretended as though he hadn’t heard her and went right on saying: “You and I, and a bunch of other people, don’t get the things everyone else does. The things that make’em happy, fulfill them? Make them normal people? They all gave us a skip. The people like us got stuck with one damn thing, just one. Some people it’s music or fucking painting. For you, it’s fighting and for me, it’s training fighters. Nothing else does it for us like those things do. If we didn’t have them we’d be even more miserable fucks to be around then we already are.”

 

Sasha really wanted to let the old bastard have it. But she found she had nothing to say. She’d never thought about it before but it was though Meng was reading off her very soul. She knew that the main reason she’d been so out of it since retreating to her house was that she hadn’t been around fighting. As she’d been reflecting earlier, she didn’t feel like she had much of an identity outside of it.

 

“But I’m thinking now I’m wrong about you, or I have been,” Meng continued. Despite herself, this was enough to get Sasha to look up in mute curiosity. “Maybe you don’t just got the one thing. I thought you did, it’s part of why I agreed to train you. Bobby and I talked about you from time to time.”

 

Sasha thought about resenting the fact that her former trainer had been discussing her with Meng, but decided against it. Against her own will, she was interested in what the old trainer would say next. 

 

“See I’ve seen you really look alive when you train, especially when you spar. That’s what I expected. But damn it if I didn’t see it yesterday when I dropped that phone next to you. I thought you might have just been friends with Martinez or something, no one around the team wants to talk about it. But that’s why I went to see her. Then I saw you when you found out who sent that message. You looked exactly like you do when you pin Sane against the ropes, maybe even more alive than that.” Meng said, speaking in as earnest a tone as Sasha had ever heard from him.

 

Sasha found, once again, that she had nothing to say. She thought about making another comment about this not being Meng’s business, but her heart wasn’t in it. And, in truth, she didn’t want the man to leave now. She found that she was trying to formulate a way to ask him how he’d known this before her because now it seemed so obvious. But the words eluded her.

 

“I hope you get how lucky you are Sasha. People like me are stuck with our one thing, we never get another. Why do you think I never had a family, kids, all that shit? It was never as important as my one thing. But it seems like you got two. Don’t piss that away,” Meng said quietly. Sasha was amazed, she’d never heard him this sincere. Also, it was literally the first time he’d ever used her first name to her.

 

“I think I may have pissed it away already,” Sasha said quietly, even as she hoped feebly that it wasn’t true.

 

“She didn’t kick me out, and she did send the message. Gotta mean something,” Meng said with a shrug. Not really wanting to discuss the dynamics of an all-female relationship with Meng of all people, Sasha just sighed.

 

“Maybe,” she said.

 

“But you're lucky, you got two things. One is up in the air, so go focus on the other,” Meng said.

 

Sasha looked over at him for a long moment before she said: “I meant it, I’m not doing the fight.”

 

“Who said anything about that? Go get changed, I’ll train you here,” Meng said as he lurched to his feet.

 

“Train me for what?”

 

“Does it matter? You need this as much as I do and Sane is back in Japan visiting family,” Meng grunted. Sasha sighed, the old bastard was still making sense. As much as she hated to admit it, the idea of training felt right. At least it sounded much better than another day spent in a depressive haze.

 

“Gym’s one floor down, take a right at the bottom of the stairs and keep walking,” she said as she stood.

  
  


**Bayley**

 

Bayley Martinez was lying on the floor of the second bedroom in her apartment, though it had never been used as such. Even when she had overnight guests, they used her couch. When she’d first moved in, she’d had lofty goals for this space. She’d meant for it be a study, a place that could eventually become the command center for her entire MMAyley brand.

 

Despite these good intentions, it was usually nothing more than a paper tornado. And today was no exception.

 

Being a reporter was often an odd business. For example, it could be a case like today. Bayley knew what had happened, and it’s implications. What she didn’t have was the data to corroborate it in a meaningful way. Just her gut instincts.

 

Her talks with Dana Brooke and subsequent research had unearthed where the money being shuffled off of Bob Orton’s books had been going. It was being doled out in smaller chunks to various current and former employees of his company. At first, Bayley had been wondering if she’d simply unearthed some employees embezzling money. Though they’d have to be fairly stupid to transfer the money directly into their own accounts.

 

But when she’d started making calls to the people who had received money, she’d gotten odd responses. Not only did most of the people she called stone wall on her, but several also seemed scared. Maybe if Bayley had been a nationally known investigative journalist she could have understood this. But she was identifying herself as a sports writer, and yet they were still clearly alarmed by the idea that she was reaching out.

 

Intriguing perhaps, but another potential dead end. If not for one, probably unintentionally dropped a clue, from one of the people she’d called.

 

“I’m sorry Ms. Martinez, I’m not supposed to talk to you…” the woman had said before hanging up. Bayley had tried calling back but found that she’d been blocked. Still, the phrasing was interesting. It wasn’t that she couldn’t or didn’t want to talk to Bayley. Just that she wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it was nothing, or maybe it was everything.

 

So, even as she’d been struggling with her feelings about both Sasha and Becky, Bayley had been working. She’d done pretty much everything she could without physically going to St. Louis again, and she was seriously thinking of doing so. But then, she’d found her break. Or rather, it had found her.

 

Earlier that very day, Bayley’s cellphone had buzzed as she’d been staring at the whiteboard she kept in this room to help her visualize stories. She’d glanced down to see a St. Louis area code and had immediately answered, thinking it might be one of the people she’d spoken to. It wasn’t, it was someone much more potentially important to her story.

 

“Hello, this is Martinez?” She’d said.

 

“ _ Ah, Ms. Martinez, it’s a pleasure to finally speak with you, ma’am. My name is Robert Orton, though my friends call me Bob.”  _ The voice on the other end of the call was calm, pleasant, containing a slight southern lilt, and made Bayley’s eyes narrow.

 

“Yes, Mr. Orton, I know who you are,” she said evenly.

 

“ _ Now, please, Ms. Martinez. I must insist that it’s Bob between ourselves,”  _ Orton chided her.

 

“So that makes us friends then?” Bayley asked.

 

“ _ I do hope so, Ms. Martinez. You see, I wouldn’t mind so much if a good friend of mine were to come around hassilin my people with her little questions. So, as I say, I trust we’re friends?”  _

 

Bayley swallowed silently before saying: “I suppose that depends Mr. Orton, why would my ‘friend’ be calling me?” As she said this she carefully activated her phones recording app, making sure not to make a sound as she did.

 

“ _ Well now, if I may address you as one friend to another, I suppose I would express my concern over your time management skills,”  _ Orton answered.

 

“Oh?”

 

“ _ A busy lady like you, in this busy busy time in your sport, choosing to spend her time out here prying into her friend’s concerns. I must say it seems like you have other, better, uses for your time.”  _ Orton said, though his voice had dropped half a degree now.

 

“Hmm, well I suppose I need to thank my good friend for his concern and advice,” Bayley said dryly.

 

“ _ And If I, your good friend as you so generously put it, might be so bold as to offer you another piece of advice?”  _ Orton asked though it was clearly not a request.

 

“Somehow I think you’ll offer it no matter what...friend,” Bayley countered.

 

Orton chuckled for a few moments before he said:  _ “I would dearly like to offer you some hospitality some day, perhaps some of our famous BBQ. Perhaps we might even invite our mutual friends Sam, Jesse, and Nancy. But that day is not now, nor will be soon I’m afraid. So I must repeat that I would be concerned to find out you’d come back into town, even if were to visit our friends. You being so busy and all.” _

 

Bayley kept her voice absolutely steady as she said: “Are you threatening me, Mr. Orton?” But even as she asked this, some part of her brain had lit up like a carnival game. Something in this last statement had been important but she couldn’t figure out what while on the phone.

 

_ “No no, of course not, I would never. I’m simply advising you as a friend. And your friend is ADVISING you that being in St. Louis would not be what’s best for you at this time. Focus on this mess with Ms. Banks out in California. I’d consider it a favor. I don’t know how much you might know about how we handle hospitality in the South, but a kind turn demands another. So if you were, in the goodness of your heart, to pay me a visit again. I might feel obligated to see to it that the courtesy was returned.” _

 

Even though she knew that thanks to her recording, Orton was more or less hanging himself, Bayley still felt a shudder run up and down her spine. Orton was a very wealthy man, and such people did have ways to bring their boots down on people like her. But he’d miscalculated if he thought he could intimidate Bayley Martinez into silence. Not even Becky Lynch and Sasha Banks had done that. They might have wounded her emotionally by taking advantage of their friendship, but had they tried to ‘force’ Bayley into something, they’d have seen this side of her too.

 

“I will take that under advisement, Mr. Orton. And, please, if you ever do decide to come to see me, I’d be delighted to show you how we entertain here on the West Coast,” she said in a voice dripping with honeyed sweetness.

 

Orton laughed indulgently at this, the same way he might laugh at a boisterous child. “ _ I will look forward to that time Ms. Martinez. You have a good day now.”  _ With that, the line went dead.

 

Looking down at her recorder app to confirm she’d gotten most of the call, Bayley smiled a wolf’s grin. “Oh, it’ll come soon you son of a bitch.”

 

As damning as that audio had the potential to be, Bayley knew it only be truly effective in context. Otherwise, it was just a terse and somewhat menacing phone call. Someone as wealthy as Orton could easily survive that. No, she needed to figure out what was happening with all the missing money to really maximize its effects. But actually doing that was going to be more difficult. 

 

That had been hours ago and Bayley had been racking her mind ever since then on two problems. The first was the original issue, how she could penetrate through the wall of obstruction that had been set up before her. The other was trying to figure out what in Orton’s statements had sent up red flags all over her brain. This went on for a while until she finally stood up.

 

She paced, she threw a small nerf ball she had against the wall, she sang into a hairbrush, even spent time texting with Emma. Nothing helped her break through to a solution. When she did eventually look at her clock she sighed. She needed to get the enchiladas she was making into the oven if she wanted them done by the time Charlotte showed up. She took extra care with these, she’d spent far too much time mocking Charlotte about her cooking to be able to screw this up now.

 

But it was just as she was closing the oven door and preparing to work on the dishes when her phone shuffled to “Nancy” by Frank Sinatra. Then it hit her with the force of an Olympian thunderbolt. The answer to one of her major problems.

 

_ “Mierda Santa…” _ she said as she turned and almost sprinted to her workroom. She tore into it so fast that she disturbed several papers, sending them fluttering to the ground. She ignored this as she ran to the whiteboard and scanned the papers she’d taped up around it. She was searching frantically for a particular sheet and when she found it she tore it down.

 

She ran a finger down the list of debits and credits on the spreadsheet. She wasn’t looking at the amounts, but rather the names of the employees who had entered them. Most were people who had no connection to her story, though she recognized a few. But she kept scanning down the column until she found a particular entry. It read:

 

_ Ashowithers, Nancy  _ _ Ashowithers, N _

 

Bayley stared at it. It was a tiny hope but it was the only lead she had. She’d remembered this entry simply because it was odd to see an error and correction left in a formal spreadsheet. This, combined with Orton’s use of the names Sam, Jesse, and Nancy, had been enough to trigger a suspicion within her. Sam Tyler and Jesse Ames were the names of two of the employee’s she’d called and been rebuffed by. It was possible that Orton had simply used the name ‘Nancy’ as a throwaway or an effort to distract her...but if he hadn’t.

 

Interestingly, Bayley had no record of any money going to Nancy Ashowithers. Instead, she seemed to be an employee in Orton’s accounting group. But more interesting, Bayley saw that she seemed to handle most of the payments she’d been studying. 

 

Bayley’s eyes lit up.

 

She made a quick call to Dana Brooke, after some cajoling she was able to get some contact information from her. Apparently, Nancy had stopped working for Orton not long ago and had even gone so far as to move out of state. But Dana still had her cellphone, and Bayley called the number.

 

“ _ Hello?”  _ A woman’s voice answered on the third ring.

 

“Hello, may please speak with Ms. Ashowithers?” Bayley asked politely.

 

“ _ It’s actually Misses, but speaking. _ ”

 

“My apologies Mrs. Ashowithers. My name is Bayley Martinez, I’m a reporter with ESPN and I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk with me?” Bayley had been introducing herself as part of ESPN for most of her calls hoping the network's name might help her. It hadn’t so far, and it seemed it might now.

 

There was a very long pause before Nancy asked: “ _...About what?” _

 

Bayley debated how best to answer this, she didn't want to spook the other woman. “ _ About some interesting payments on Bob Orton’s books,”  _ was what she settled on.

 

Another very long pause.

 

“ _ I don’t think I should...the stuff that happened...I don’t want that trouble, _ ” Nancy said, though Bayley got the strong impression she was trying to convince herself more than anyone. So she pushed.

 

“If you can tell me what happened, I think we might be able to start work on making sure it doesn’t happen again,” she said gently.

 

There was a sigh, another pause, this one so long that Bayley was just preparing to ask if the other woman was OK when her voice came back over the call. “Alright.”

 

Bayley could hardly contain the sense of elation that sprang up at this. But she kept it from her voice all throughout the call. She made sure to check that it was OK with Nancy to record the call, and then took detailed notes. When she was done, she thanks Nancy for her help and then promised to keep the other woman informed.

 

“ _ Just make sure people know,”  _ was all Nancy said before hanging up.

 

Bayley sat back in her chair to once again stare up at the ceiling. She was wondering how best to use this information, given the limitations that Nancy had shared with her. Then, as she smelled the delicious aroma of her food cooking, she smiled. 

 

She’d have a lot more for Charlotte tonight than enchiladas.

  
  


**Charlotte**

 

Charlotte was well on her way to leaving the hotel when her phone rang with a number she didn’t recognize. Normally she would let it roll into voicemail but with everything happening she couldn’t afford to ignore a call that could potentially be important. 

 

“Hello, this is Charlotte Flair.”

 

_ “Why hello, there Ms. Flair this is Bob Orton. I must say it has been some time since our last talk. How have things been around the ol’ gym?” _

 

Charlotte sighed as she thought over her answer. Bringing Orton on had seemed like a good idea at the time. The extra capital and safety net had been necessary when the gym was on the brink of falling apart. But with her hard work, and Becky bringing more bodies inside just by being associated with the gym his financial stability wasn’t as needed. “Things have been going well. A little busy right now with everything going on but we’re managing.”

 

_ “Good. Good… Say, hows that little Irish spitfire doin’? The girl gonna be ready for whoever steps in there?” _

 

On the surface, the words seemed calm, even kind. But there was something in the way he said them that seemed disingenuous. Like he was calling to check up on the status of a car at an auto garage rather than a human being with real problems. “Becky's doing fine.”

 

_ “That’s good to hear. Sounds like you got the dog back on the leash. A good owner always knows how to wrangle their cattle.”  _ Charlotte was about to speak up on her fighter’s behalf when Bob continued.  _ “Seems like you mighta left the gate open and one of yours got out. Causing trouble to your neighbors.” _

 

“I think you’re mistaken. And I don’t appreciate my staff being compared to cattle, Mr. Orton.”

 

_ “With all due respect Ms. Flair I am not mistaken. I understand you’re on friendly terms with Ms. Martinez. Perhaps she would listen if my request came from a more… familiar voice.” _

 

Charlotte wasn’t exactly sure where this was going but if the hairs on the back of her neck standing up were anything to go by, it wasn’t somewhere she would like. “You have my attention. What exactly is this request?” She stated skeptically. 

 

_ “Nothing a woman of your stature can’t handle. I’m just asking for you to ever so kindly impress upon her that my business is my business. And if she insists on sticking her nose where it don’t belong she may not like the result.” _

 

“You want me to threaten her on your behalf?”

 

_ “Threaten? Of course not. I would just, from one business partner to another, appreciate you talking some sense into that fiery lil’ chica.” _

 

Charlotte grimaced and bit her tongue. She wouldn’t find out anything more from Orton but she would be seeing Bayley soon anyways. “I’ll take it into consideration. Is there anything else you needed me for?”

 

_ “Not today sweetheart. Thank you kindly for taking my words under advisement. Just make sure you keep that lady o’ yours in fighting shape and we’ll be just fine. Do take care now. Enjoy your day.” _

 

“You too.” Charlotte lied as she disconnected the call. 

  
  


**Bayley/Charlotte**

 

Bayley went through a world record pace apartment cleanup after she’d sorted out her story. But her heart was only half in it. Her mind was still too hung up on what she’d just discovered. She ended up just stuffing clothes, wrappers, and other debris under convenient pieces of furniture or into random drawers. She’d sort it out later.

 

One thing she was at least proud of was the way dinner had turned out. Bayley had actually called her  _ abuelita  _ for some tips on the cooking. And now, as she started retrieving the goods from the oven and stove, she was sure that Charlotte would love it. And the fact that she’d be able to lord it over the blonde was just a side bonus.

 

Bayley actually greatly enjoyed cooking, which always surprised people that knew her. The real reason she subsisted mostly on snack food and diet Pepsi was that she lived alone. It didn’t make sense for her to be producing elaborate meals when the only person she sat down with was whoever was on TV. But tonight was different and she wanted to shine. Not just for the fun of cooking, but because she did undeniably owe Charlotte. 

 

She’d settled on a simple three dish spread. She’d begin with chilled avocado soup with a twist, a mint garnish. Next would come the enchilada’s based on a recipe from her _abuelita_. Even as she spoke, these were filling her apartment with a mouth-watering aroma. Finally were the mini churros she’d been making, served with ice cream. She was a little nervous as she rarely cooked for anyone but she was happy on the whole.

 

Not something she’d been able to say too often recently. So she owed Charlotte for that too.

 

Charlotte killed the engine of her rental car. Looking up at the building in front of her with solemn curiosity. How differently the same space looked the last time she was here. Not physically of course. Everything about it was the same; color, siding, the ever so slightly uneven steps. 

 

Everything except what had brought her here. Last time had been a pilgrimage to find the root of Bayley’s vanishing act. The results of which would always linger with her. 

 

This time, however, was a mutual indulgence in good company and, hopefully, food. Although she did hate to admit it, the cold hard facts said the food was in much better hands this go around. 

 

A small part of Charlotte felt… guilty wasn’t exactly right. She felt both profound happiness that she had managed to stay on good terms with Bayley and an opposing sadness that Becky hadn’t. 

 

Pushing that to the back of her mind, Charlotte strode forward towards the door. Raised fist halting in midair for a second right before knocking. 

 

It took her a moment to shake off the ghost of their last meeting but she pushed through and rapped her knuckles on the door three times in quick succession. 

 

“ _ Está abierto!”  _ Bayley shouted as she heard the knock, she was settling one last important detail she needed ready before they could eat.

 

Charlotte had to think about it for a second. Quickly scanning the small, but growing database before reaching towards the knob and opening the door. The wafting aromas coming from within calling out to her like a siren song. Mouth watering already. “Holy shit that smells good Bayley. I’m just saying that I might need to bring some back with me. Otherwise Ruby will call bullshit when I tell her.”

 

Bayley laughed as she appeared from the kitchen and gave Charlotte a hug. “Just because I DON’T cook, doesn’t mean I can’t. No Latina girl escapes SOME lessons! I’m just hoping I did it all justice.” Her grin then turned mischievous as she added: “And, yes, I have a frozen pizza on stand by.”

 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Charlotte teased as she walked further into peer around the room. “Glad to see you’ve… mostly remembered to use trash cans.” She thought back to the conversation she had with Orton and frowned slightly before her smile came back. There would be plenty of time for that. 

 

Bayley’s smile became a bit fixed as she remembered the last time Charlotte had been here. But she recovered quickly and surreptitiously slid a notebook under her bookshelf with her foot. “I do clean you know I just...don't clean often,” she admitted ruefully.

 

“I’m more amazed that you somehow get as much work done as you do while being so unorganized.” Charlotte grinned and shook her head. “It’s oddly impressive.”

 

Bayley chuckled. “And I feel the same way in reverse, how do you not spend all your time cleaning Char? I never even saw any dust in your office.” As she said this she vanished again and then appeared with two beers. “I’ve got wine too if you like,” she said as she opened her beer on her countertop.

 

‘We’ve gone this long with beer. Why ruin a good thing.” Charlotte exclaimed as she quickly popped off the top. “By the way, got a quick question to run by you.”

 

Bayley handed Charlotte her beer and then hopped up on her counter with a quick nod, curious about what the blonde wanted to know.

 

“By any chance, has Bob Orton contacted you?” Charlotte asked even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. 

 

Bayley’s automatic caution when dealing with her stories flared, but she held it down. She was, after all, doing the digging for Charlotte. Taking a sip of her beer she said: “You could say that, I must say I’ve never been threatened in such a pleasant way before.”

 

“You apparently didn’t take his threat serious enough for his liking. He wanted me or… uh to encourage you to stop snoopin’ round his heels.” Charlotte added a subtle southern twang to her voice for the last few words. Hoping it would distract from her near slip. 

 

Bayley raised an eyebrow. Her instincts told her Charlotte was holding something back, but she decided to leave it. So she just let a grin spread across her face. Maybe she was strange, but being threatened tended to have an opposite effect on here than most intended. If Orton thought he could scare her off, then there was something to scare her away from. The idea intrigued her.

 

Winking at Charlotte she said: “And I may now consider myself duly encouraged?”

 

“All things considered… Yeah. Threatening someone doesn’t exactly scream I have nothing to hide.” Charlotte chuckled and took a sip of her beer. “Just be careful.”

 

Bayley’s grin held as she said: “I’m a big girl Char, and this is far from the first time I’ve been threatened. Brock Lesnar once said he’d strangle me...at considerable volume. But...it is interesting that you’d mention Mr. Orton. I have a gift for you, I wanted to save it until after dinner but since we’re talking about it.”

 

Charlotte’s intrigue was raised. “The words gift and Orton really don’t go together but I’ll give it a shot.”

 

Bayley nodded and took Charlotte by the hand and led her into her study. Turning the light on she revealed the chaotic mess but she nonetheless nodded to her whiteboard. Stuck on its surface was a veritable forest of papers with marker notes written between them. Kicking some cans out of the way Bayley began to search around the room for the binder she’d made.

 

“Hang on...where did I…” she muttered.

 

The blonde took in the sight with a critical eye. She tried to make sense of the board but it was so seemingly chaotic that nothing seemed to connect to Charlotte. “That’s… a lot. How do you keep track of what all this means?”

 

“What?” Bayley asked distracted as she dug in a drawer. “Oh, I don’t know I guess it just works for me but…” she trailed off as she finally located what she’d been seeking “...I hope THIS will make sense to you.” She returned to Charlotte holding a three-ring binder and handed it over to the blonde as though it were the holy grail.

 

Charlotte gingerly took the binder and opened it up. “Alright Bay, what am I looking at here?” She said while trying to soak up the information in front of her once she turned the page. 

 

“Well, the reason why good old Bob is so annoyed with me is that. I’ve been doing some digging thanks to a tip from one of my sources. I hit her up first when I was putting stuff together for my first story for you.” She was careful not to mention Becky as she said this and moved on quickly. “But she reached out again not long ago and put me onto this. Go to the page with the photos on it, that’s a good summary,” Bayley finished, almost bouncing with excitement.

 

The brunette’s excitement was contagious and Charlotte swiftly turned to the page with a row of photos spread across it. Names and large dollar amounts written next to each. Charlotte’s eyes widening in recognition as she continued to read on. “All this to keep his son from getting in trouble? How old is he- and his daddy’s still covering up for him. What a dick.” 

 

Bayley shrugged. “I suppose if you have a violent temper and zero impulse control it’s an occupational hazard. But Randy’s not in any legal trouble, these were out of court settlements. All the people listed signed NDA’s too.” She said this in a particular way that hinted to Charlotte that the blonde should ask more.

 

Charlotte’s gaze slipped sideways away from the binder towards Bayley. “If this is a gift there has to be a bit more to it.”

 

Bayley gave a mock pout. “Char, your line in this scene is to ask the brilliant reporter how she possibly got all this information if all the victims had signed NDA’s. Then you’re supposed to be amazed at the sagacity and cunning.”

 

“Oh! Is that what you wanted?” Charlotte played along. “In that case… How on earth did such a little lady like yourself get such an awfully large amount of information?” Bringing back her southern twang to an obnoxious level as she batted her eyes in a mocking tribute to the old damsels in distress. 

 

“Well…” Bayley said, speaking with exaggerated smugness “...The victims themselves may have signed NDA’s. Even his lawyers and his accountants. But not the lowly data entry specialist who had actually put the information on a spreadsheet…”

 

“And I’m assuming since you’re so happy that you managed to track down said specialist,” Charlotte stated in a half question. 

 

Bayley, who was rather enjoying her grandstanding, gave a theatrical bow. “Not only did I find her, but I convinced her to give me a statement corroborating my other research. And IF I were to publish this then none of the victims would be liable for damages as they hadn’t broken their NDA’s.” Bayley laid enough stress on the word ‘if’ for Charlotte to know that the matter wasn’t quite settled yet.

 

Charlotte caught the deliberate wording. Her mind already churning through the new information and how it fit in. “Is there a reason why you aren’t just dropping this story already? Seems like you have good information.”

 

“Oh, it would be huge...might even make traction despite the whole Becky-Sasha thing. BUT...I wonder if we know someone who might be able to use it more…” Even as Bayley said this she had to marvel at herself. There was a point where she would have sprinted to get this out in the world, but now she was turning down a potential bombshell in favor of a friend. And she found she didn’t even really see it as a sacrifice, not for the woman across from her.

 

Realization hit Charlotte on the head but she had to make sure. “Are you sure? I know Bob’s been making some moves but this could be huge for you. It’s everything a journalist could want. Bribery, cover-ups and behind the scenes dealings. I’m sure Mandy would have blown this out there without even caring about the NDA’s.”

 

Bayley chuckled. “First, if Mandy would do something then I probably DON’T want to. Second, and this is more important, the big difference is that Mandy probably doesn’t have any friends besides the ones who will penalize her for wearing tank tops two days in a row or not wearing pink on Wednesdays.” She laughed again but then let her face soften as she said: “Char you know how big it could be for me, but I’m happy to let it go if it means you keep your father’s gym, YOUR gym. Which I’m guessing Bob wants now that Becky is a thing again.”

 

Charlotte flinched at the reminder of their last phone call. “He’s made some… comments about that.” Her anger flaring once again before she calmed herself back down and softly smiled over at Bayley. “I don’t know what to say… I honestly hope it doesn’t come to this but it would take a load off my mind to have an ace up my sleeve.”

 

Bayley pressed the binder against Charlotte’s chest and said: “You saved me Charlotte, let me do the same for your gym.”

 

The blonde grabbed onto the binder like it was something precious. “Thank you.” She said while trying to fight back tears at how much Bayley’s words affected her. “I know you understand how much this gym means to me… Thank you, Bayley.” Quickly wrapping an arm around the brunette and giving her a hug. “I kinda love you. Ya know?” 

 

As ever unable to stay completely dry-eyed when Charlotte wasn’t, Bayley hugged her friend back but joked: “For me? It kinds of depends on the day but most of the time I love you too.” But she countered this by squeezing Charlotte tight.

 

Charlotte laughed loudly. A sound that felt like it hadn’t come around often enough as of late. Hopefully, that was changing though. “Most of the time? I’d be offended if I didn’t understand where you were coming from. I still might hold it against you though.” She teased. 

 

Bayley stepped back and grinned, wiping at her eye. “You won’t feel that way after dinner, come on.” She hurried out of the room, eager to show off some more. For whatever reason, she found it harder to be confident around Charlotte because the other woman seemed so in command most of the time. But she was tonight, and she meant to enjoy it.

 

With a wide smile, Charlotte followed along. Binder held close to her chest. 

 

It was so good to see Bayley acting much more like her normal self and Charlotte was pleasantly excited that she was feeling so much better than the last time she was in L.A. It made the last trip entirely worth it and she was forever grateful that she had decided to come out when she had. “Alright. I’m coming.”

 

Bayley waited for Charlotte to sit down before serving her the avocado soup and then taking her own. When they’d finished, to rave reviews from Charlotte, Bayley got a mischievous look on her face. Standing she bussed the bowls and then said: “Now, I said I’d make you proper enchiladas and I did BUT...I know it could be a bit of a shock so I made you something special in case you’re uncomfortable.”

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at the other woman. “I’m not sure if that’s an insult. But it can’t be worse than my previous attempts so I’m game for anything.”

 

Bayley’s grin turned wicked as she walked over to her fridge and retrieved a plate with a lid on top of it. The lid was actually just an upside-down salad bowl but it wasn’t as though Bayley and stainless steel toppers. Setting it down in front of Charlotte she pulled the bowl off to reveal a single enchilada that she’d left on her grill for over forty minutes, blackened to a crisp. “Thought this might be more familiar,” she said, barely containing her laughter.

 

Charlotte kept her face straight and flashed a disarmingly bright, cheerful smile. “You’re far too kind. Glad to know you were thinking of me.” She chuckled and pinched what used to be food. The char breaking down into black dust at her pressure. “Could use a little more cheese though.”

 

“Of course...CHAR-lotte,” Bayley said before dissolving into a fit of giggles. When she’d finally recovered enough to speak she said: “I hate that I’m a writer and I had to spend time on that one, but so it goes.”

 

Charlotte fought to not roll her eyes but still glared, unimpressed at the other woman. “I mean, I know it’s my fault for walking into it but seriously? I hope you’ve managed to have your fun at my expense.” She made sure to keep her voice playfully light but physically acted like she was offended.

 

Bayley took her friends face and kissed her cheek until Charlotte playfully batted her away. Then the actual dinner began, and Charlotte’ reaction to Bayley’s enchiladas was everything she had hoped for. The blonde even managed seconds, which Bayley was grateful for simply because she didn’t want to have as much standing temptation in her house as a nearly full leftover dish would represent. Dessert went even better but the real highlight of the night was the conversation.

 

It had been a long time since Bayley and Charlotte had been given a long uninterrupted stretch of time where they didn’t have to discuss some kind of crisis. And they both seemed to relish it. Bayley was pleasantly surprised to find that Charlotte was as big a basketball fan as she was, though Bayley had never heard any kind of indication of this before. She supposed it simply hadn’t come up. 

 

They had one of their most fierce and simultaneously good-natured arguments on this topic. Bayley displaying typical Californian scorn for the Celtics and Charlotte mocking her when she learned that Bayley was a King’s fan. This topic took them through the Churros and another beer each. It was only when Bayley put the churros away that she decided they’d better move over to the couch.

 

“Look…” she said as she held up a hand “...I’m not saying Kyrie Irving isn't a really good or even great player. What I’m saying is that until he gets some hardware in his cabinet that didn’t come while attached to LBJ then I don’t think we can call him an ‘elite’ player.” As she finished speaking she sat down at one end of her couch, having such a good time that she didn’t even realize she was sitting on the very spot where Charlotte had dropped the razor last time she’d been there.

 

Charlotte sipped from her beer and shook her head in good-natured disbelief. “Fine. I think we can just agree to disagree on this one. One of us has obviously had too much to drink and isn’t thinking clearly anymore.”

 

Bayley rolled her eyes: “Oh my god, really? Fine, you continue to believe that you didn’t just buy that KG, Paul Pierce, and Ray Allen title then.” She said this reproachfully but she was beaming. It was so fun to just talk about stuff normal people did, not have to worry about anything. After a moment of silence, she asked: “How is Toni working out?”

 

“She’s been great honestly. It’s almost disconcerting how well behaved and willing she had been. I think I’ve just been expecting something to go wrong again.” Charlotte said.

 

“How will you adjust? Two of your three fighters aren’t causing you troubles!” Bayley laughed, before realizing she had just indirectly mentioned Becky. But she was determined not to bring down her, or Charlotte’s, mood so she added: “Must lead to a lot napping in your office eh, boss lady?”

 

Charlotte chuckled. “Wishful thinking. Toni’s been great but napping has eluded me. There’s always something else to be done with the fight coming up… At least with the fight that was going to happen.” She took another sip of her beer and decided to let Bayley in on what she knew. “Shane wasn’t kidding about the Rousey thing either. They seem to really want her if Sasha won’t fight.”

 

Bayley nodded. It made sense commercially, even if she didn’t think Rousey would represent a real challenge to Becky at this moment in both their careers. “How is...how is Becky taking the news?” Bayley finally asked, deciding there was no avoiding the Irish fighter any longer.

 

Charlotte glanced sidelong at Bayley from the mention. “Better than at first. Doesn’t want to fight anyone else but Sasha though. And I quote, ‘Fuck that crybaby glass jaw, Ronnie. It’s Banks or nothing.’”

 

“It’s almost like...and god I didn’t think I’d ever say this...does Becky respect her?” Bayley asked.

 

Charlotte was quiet for a moment. “On some level. I think some of it has to do with going through all this press and then having the rug pulled out from under her like this. She’s so close to getting what she wanted and then POOF, it’s just gone.” 

 

“Can’t be disappointed in something you have no expectations for…” Bayley pointed out “...But honestly? I’m disappointed FOR them. I’ve only been emailing Sasha for a few days but...based on what I USED to know...I can’t believe Sasha is actually happy with this decision either.” Bayley reflected for a moment at this, yes in many ways this was a typical Sasha reaction. She’d remarked before that the fighter’s first reaction was almost invariably her worst, and this just smacked of her impulsiveness.

 

“How has that been going by the way? Actually talking with her again?” Charlotte asked delicately as she could knowing the subject was still a sore spot for Bayley. 

 

“It’s...weird…” Bayley admitted. There was only so much she could tell Charlotte since she’d promised not to share the messages with anyone. “Just imagine that you were as close to someone as you possibly could be, then they vanished, but now they are back and you’re kind of forced to start from square one despite remembering being so close.”

 

Charlotte grimaced but tried to stay positive. “Are you happy you responded to her?” 

 

Bayley thought for a moment. “I don’t know if I’m quite to ‘happy’ yet. But I feel...satisfied?”

 

“That’s better than always wondering what if.” Charlotte offered. “I think I kinda know what you mean anyways.”

 

Bayley was wondering if Charlotte was referring to the several halts in their own relationship but decided not to ask. Something else was bothering her anyway. “Just...talking to Sasha. Sometimes I wish she could just talk with another fighter who had been in her position. But really….I look back in BFA history and can’t find anyone like that.”

 

“Hard to find someone who’s been to the heights she has.” Charlotte surmised. Quickly going over the potential fighters who could understand and coming up empty. “But that could be nice. Finding someone who could actually empathize and know where she’s coming from. From what I’ve seen it’s pretty lonely at the top.”

 

“Seen?” Bayley asked curiously, wondering what kind of experience Charlotte was drawing on.

 

Charlotte backtracked slightly, “Well... more like I’ve seen what it’s like after being on top… You saw it too.”

 

Bayley just stared at Charlotte, dumbstruck. 

 

How had she not seen this? Who could talk to Sasha about what she was going through? Maybe the woman who had blazed the very trail Sasha was stuck on. But then, she realized she hadn’t thought of it because it was insane. It was like asking Tom to come and help Jerry work through a personal problem. 

 

But…

 

Bayley opened her mouth to speak and found no sound came out. She tried again, and managed to say: “Becky…”

 

Charlotte grimly nodded. “Kind of poetic isn’t it? Becky might be the only person who has actually been through a lot of what Sasha’s been.” Staring down at her beer for a moment in contemplation before adding, “But that would be insane after the last time they were together.” She didn’t sound completely convinced by her own words. 

 

“Yeah...yeah...they could never…” Bayley trailed off, almost against her will she found herself tackling the logistical problems of the possibility.

 

“But there really isn’t another person we could find on such short notice.” Charlotte wondered why she even said that. But she was just pointing out the obvious. They didn’t have any reasonable options beyond waiting and hoping Sasha changed her mind miraculously. Maybe something unreasonable could actually work. 

 

Bayley picked at the label on her beer for a moment before she set it down and turned to face her friend. “Could you and Becky stay in town for few more days?” she asked seriously.

 

The fact that Charlotte and apparently Bayley were both actually contemplating this was ridiculous. “Becky will ask why… I won’t lie to her.”

 

“You won’t have to...you can honestly say it might get her the fight back,” Bayley suggested.

 

Charlotte thought about it for a moment. “That might work actually. How do we get them together without Sasha feeling like it’s an ambush or something?” She asked. “Pretty sure she won’t take too kindly to Becky just showing up out of the blue wanting to have a chat.”

 

Bayley sighed, this part would be hard. She would never ‘use’ Sasha but it felt uncomfortably like that was what she was going to suggest. “I will...say I have a message for her at a neutral place. She’ll show up.” She felt bad even suggesting this so she hastened to add: “And I really WILL write her a message.”

 

“Good. I don’t want to deal with another fight… At least until the actual fight.” Charlotte said. “I’ve still got to get Becky to agree to all this but hopefully the fact that it could technically benefit her will work. I know she’s not loving still being here already.”

 

Bayley debated internally for a moment before she said, quietly: “You can...you can tell her that I’d really appreciate it.” She left it at that, Charlotte would pick up all the subtext.

 

Charlotte nodded at the implication of that tiny offering. “She’ll be there. Have a place in mind?”

 

Bayley did.

  
  


**Bayley/Becky**

 

Bayley found herself in an odd kind of limbo.

 

The whole MMA world seemed to have ground to a halt as a result of Sasha’s self-imposed exile. Everything else going on seemed to be happening on mute. It was as though the whole community was simply standing by with bated breath, waiting to find out what would happen next.

 

Which was all well and good, unless your job was to report on that community. There was really only so many puff pieces on how unusual the situation was that the market would bear. More importantly, she felt like trying to report on other happenings, as though the Banks-Lynch situation wasn’t happening, would come off as hollow. All she could really do was wait.

 

This necessarily left her with a lot of free time which she did her best to fill. Inevitably this meant more than her fair share of gaming. Among her many qualities, Bayley was just a straight up nerd. She loved it all from Star Trek to Dr. Who. And she’d been this way for most of her life. 

 

Besides, she thought to herself as she turned on her custom made PC, she’d had enough bad news for the day. She’d been watching TV earlier and found out that Clex, the owner of Clex’s, would be starring in a live-action sequel to Lilo and Stitch...as Lilo. The original was one of Bayley’s favorite movies and she simply wasn’t pleased at the moment. So what better idea than to go take her frustrations out on some AI enemies?

 

She had considered Smash earlier, but she was getting tired of being embarrassed by Lizzie. Bayley had been gaming longer than the girl had been alive and yet, try though she might, she couldn’t beat her Kirby. Frankly, the whole situation was simply unacceptable, but there was nothing she could do about it. So instead, she avoided the situation and booted up the Division 2. Lizzie didn’t own the game...yet, so Bayley hoped she might get good enough at in the meantime to hold her own when the inevitable happened.

 

Changing into her sweats, she filled a bowl with  _ sabor de soledad,  _ grabbed a handful of diet Pepsi’s, put on her headset, and settled in on her couch. 

 

Becky was bored. Scratch that. Becky was bored and tired. A combination that would normally lead her right to bed but for some reason, any rest seemed to elude her. 

 

She had tried to lay down and rest after her earlier session with Bobby. 

 

With the Sasha fight in the air not knowing exactly who her next opponent would be Lashley seemed extra determined to push Becky and make sure she didn’t relax her training because of the confusion. 

 

Becky tried not to think about how her trainer was subtly starting to shift aspects of her training. A newfound emphasis on clinch work and grappling that coincided with the potential of Ronda Rousey being her next opponent. 

 

The fight sold itself. Two of the greatest grapplers the division had ever seen fighting. The potential for world-class grappling exchanges and scrambles had many of the hardcore fanbase salivating at the thought. Becky herself couldn’t be less excited. 

 

Any other time a fight with Rousey would have been an amazing notch in her belt but the thought of that fight right now left her cold. Anyone other than Sasha after getting so close to another chance would be devastating. 

 

Though she hated to admit it, and wouldn’t dare admit it in public Becky was stuck in a loop… Becky needed Sasha Banks and wouldn’t- couldn’t move on.

 

Even getting a massage from Liv after her earlier workout hadn’t helped release the tension inherent inside of her.    
  


For just a moment Becky thought about drinking but cut off the thought and began to pace. Trying to do anything she could to keep the darkness at bay as it crept back in. 

 

Eventually, the Irish woman settled in at a desk in her hotel room with the expensive laptop she had purchased before coming to LA. After the other stops on the tour, Becky had realized that there was plenty of downtime. And when she wasn’t moping or wallowing in her own misery Becky had taken to playing video games to try and get better. Maybe one day she wouldn’t be thoroughly embarrassed every time she played with Lizzie.

 

Becky pulled up the new game she had purchased off the online store. Lizzie had mentioned that she was planning on buying it once she got her allowance from all the chores she did and Becky wanted to get a head start. It probably wouldn’t help much but maybe she could sound halfway intelligent while playing. 

 

Bayley was, not for the first time bemoaning the state of the online gaming community. Not so much for the trolling but for the fact that it didn’t conform well to her schedule. She was finding almost no one online she was interested in grouping up with. Hence, she’d spent a lot of time running around simulated Washington DC on her own. Which was fun enough, but the game was really meant to be played in a group.

 

She was bored enough that she even broke her usual rule about never going into the Dark Zone. It tended to contain the worst cliches of gamers but...today she needed the release. So she entered the PVP area for the first time in this installment of the series. She knew she was moving a bit like a noob, overly cautious and slow. But she rationalized this by telling herself that it was her first time there.

 

If she was honest with herself, Becky had virtually no idea what she was doing. She had been playing some fighting games with Lizzie and had poured quarters into an old Street Fighter II arcade system back when she was younger but never really shooters. Trying to aim with the dual sticks felt odd and clunky but that was probably mostly on her. 

 

Still, she had gotten the hang of the movement… To an extent. Still finding herself accidentally running into things and moving in a way that could only be described as awkwardly robotic. Even for a video game. 

 

Some words appeared on her screen but Becky paid them no heed. Charging through and into the marked ‘DZ zone’ without a care in the world. 

 

Bayley was moving from cover to cover down the imaginary DC streets. She’d been to the nation’s capital and was privately amusing herself by thinking that the developers were only SLIGHTLY exaggerating how dirty the streets were. She’d slung lead with some NPC’s but hadn’t yet encountered another player.

 

“What am I, a plague carrier?” Bayley asked herself as she popped some  _ sabor de soledad  _ in her mouth.

 

Becky continued to stroll through the streets openly. Moving in a mostly straight line through the maze of abandoned cars littering the streets. Looking straight ahead with the hope that she would find something to shoot even if she would likely be laughably inaccurate. 

 

“Oh ho ho...I got you,” Bayley said. She was sheltering behind a burnt out car and aiming with her marksmen rifle at the other player walking perpendicularly to her position. “I’m sorry ‘Lucy69’ but you’re mine,” Bayley chuckled as she fired. Despite the universal odds against it, the other player chose that exact moment to slew erratically to one side. Bayley’s shot missed but no doubt alerted the other player to her presence.

 

The sound of gunfire had Becky perking up and spinning around to try and find the source. She actually ended up startling herself and pulling the trigger of her gun. A few rounds moving out and hitting nothing but air as Becky continued to try and find her target. Once she did that, it was a whole different thing trying to get her sights over their body. Especially with the person moving and ducking behind cover. 

 

“God damn it!” Bayley snarled as she began to dodge the other player’s wild return fire. Bayley was in the habit of leaning far forward during intense sequences, as well as stabbing the buttons with far more force than was necessary. Neither of these things actually helped her much in this case, in an odd way the other player's obvious lack of experience was working in their favor. It meant that they moved so erratically that Bayley was having a hard time leading them.

 

“Fine, we’ll do it this way,” Bayley said with nasty triumph as she flung a seeker mine toward the other player.

 

Becky continued to scramble and try to gain her bearings just barely noticing something being thrown in her direction. She moved to try and evade whatever the hell it was but something was blocking her. Quickly turning back around to find she had been unknowingly running into a cement traffic divider halting her progress. 

 

“You gotta be kiddin’ me. Why the ‘ell is this ‘ere?” Becky grumbled out bitterly. The game was easy to get mad at even though most of her problems ultimately came down to user error rather than a problem with the game itself. 

 

Bayley was looking on in bemusement as the other player tried to escape their peril, ineptly. They kept up with it right up until the mine detonated under them. It didn’t finish them off but the stagger animation forced them to stand which, in turn, allowed Bayley a head shot. And THAT did finish them off.

 

“ _ Demonios si!”  _ Bayley celebrated as she had to force herself to not jump in celebration lest she rip her headset out of the PC.

 

Becky let out a string of curse words in every language she knew. Hand holding the mouse slamming down onto the table out of anger and making the laptop shake. “It’s just a stupid game anyway.” She told herself. 

 

But if that was actually true she didn’t show it with her actions. Face locked into a pout and her posture becoming more slouched in the seat as she continued to grumble about her demise. 

 

The joy of her triumph had faded quickly for Bayley. There was no real joy in beating another player who was obviously so inexperienced. Bayley stood over the other player’s corpse for a while as she debated with herself. Eventually, she decided that it couldn’t cause much harm so she flipped her mic over to proximity.

 

“Hey, nice effort there. Just a little tip, if you’re not careful you’ll end up sticking to things due to the cover system,” she said, wanting to be helpful.

 

Becky’s petty rage disappeared in an instant. It couldn’t be her though. What were the odds? 

 

She took a moment to look up the other player's profile. Scanning through with wide eyes at the number of games they had played. Bayley played a lot of video games but that alone didn’t prove anything. 

 

Becky adjusted her mic and swallowed. “Hey, thanks.” Hoping that would prompt the other person to speak again. But instead, the other person just continued to stand over her body like she hadn’t said anything. 

 

She continued to scan the profile and clicked on the friends tab. Scrolling through the list before her eyes came to rest on the only username, other than her own, she was actually familiar with. 

 

Bayley waited for almost a minute for any kind of response. When none came she checked to make sure her mic was set correctly, it was. There were a lot of possible reasons why the other player might not respond to her. Maybe they didn’t speak English, they didn’t have a mic, or they could just be rude and salty. Whatever the case, she was going to move on.

 

“Well, it was fun, maybe we’ll run into each again…” she said and then added as joking afterthought “...Visit MMAyley.com!”

 

Becky’s fingers fumbled in their haste to type out a message before Bayley left.  _ ‘How do you talk in this thing?’ _ She didn’t want to mislead the other woman but she was desperate to talk to her hopefully still friend. She really wasn’t sure. It was probably a bit selfish for her to wish Bayley was ready to talk but there was no way she could ignore this.

 

By the time she was able to figure out how to type in game Bayley was long gone and Becky was left with nothing to do but respawn. 

 

As her character loaded back up Becky sat back in her chair. Chewing on her bottom lip and contemplating what to do. 

 

She wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Nor was she sure whether she would classify this chance meeting as good or bad luck. 

 

Bayley had made it pretty clear that she needed time and Becky really wanted to give it to her. But she also missed her friend something fierce. 

 

Her team at the Flair gym was great and she even had begun to think she and Alexa were somehow becoming friendly but none of them were Bayley. Becky had felt so comfortable being herself when the reporter was around. Knowing without a shadow of a doubt that she could let down all her walls and be honest with the woman. She could be vulnerable and not fear being looked down at or as less than for not being the woman most people in MMA believed her to be. 

 

With a heavy heart, Becky knew she couldn’t push the other woman into talking to her. But maybe she could send a gesture and make herself vulnerable. Hopefully, she could indicate that she was willing to work on things and not just push Bayley away even quicker. 

 

She went back to Bayley’s profile and searched around until she remembered Lizzie’s instructions for finding the ‘add friend’ function. 

 

Her finger hovered over the mouse. Fear of the unknown freezing her in her tracks. Was she ready for Bayley to potentially reject the request? It was certainly a possibility that Becky couldn’t even begrudge her after what she had said. 

 

But not knowing was somehow worse than having her fears confirmed. 

 

Becky closed her eyes while her finger clicked the mouse and sent the friend request. Now all she could do was wait.

 

Bayley was running through the DZ when she saw a message pop up indicating she had a new friend request. Frowning, she found a safe place, took cover, and looked. It was the same player she’d just killed, which struck her as odd since the other person had declined to even speak to her. But then she noticed they had a mutual uplay friend. 

 

Oh well, she decided, she’d look into it later.

  
  


**Becky/Charlotte**

 

Charlotte normally would have a plan for something like this but, as she had learned many times prior, the best-laid plans often went off the rail when Becky was involved. 

 

So instead of overthinking this, she had decided to just go and wing it off the cuff. 

 

Now the only problem was bringing it up. 

 

Becky had started to get a little on edge as of late. A combination of not knowing the status of her next fight and cabin fever. She was free to leave the hotel of course and had several times. Twice with Charlotte to go pick up dinner at a local co-op and one time when she had tagged along with Ruby and Liv just to get out. The latter ending rather abruptly when a hoard of press slowly congregated around their position. 

 

As of late, the redhead had taken to mostly sticking to the hotel. Going back and forth between the room and gym with few detours. Only adding to the veritable ball of energy inside Becky that was begging to be released. 

 

It was a cause of worry for Charlotte. The idea that this extended stay in Los Angeles could have a negative effect on Becky didn’t elude her. She was constantly at odds with herself over juggling the business side of things with caring about her fighter’s wellbeing. As of late, more often than not her fighter’s wellbeing won out over the business side. But right now she was in a bind. Stuck in a state of perpetual unknown that wasn’t good for Becky’s mentality but was necessary while things were being figured out. 

 

She looked over to where Becky was busily typing away at her phone. Momentarily forgetting what she so worried about as her eyes took in the finally relaxed redhead.

 

For the last several minutes the redhead in question had been putting some finishing touches on a new, completely unverified twitter account. A fresh start where she could practice just being herself. 

 

Even if her anonymity only lasted for a few days it would be nice to post things without everyone over analyzing her words like they normally did when she put anything online. It gave her a chance to let herself be vulnerable on a small scale and be comfortable in her own skin again.

 

She had gotten the idea after going to an Alcoholics Anonymous group last night while Charlotte had been out for a dinner meeting with someone. 

 

The anonymous part of the name was a little difficult for someone of Becky’s status. It wasn’t that the people in the group didn’t try and ignore her celebrity. Most of them did so with an understanding smile and welcoming attitude, but it made Becky miss the feeling of having nothing to live up to. No one to let down. A place where she could just be genuine without people questioning her motives, or trolls making every post a warzone. 

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Becky’s attention dragged upwards towards the blonde. “Shoot,” she said as she placed the phone down. 

 

Charlotte mulled over her words but knew Becky would respond better to a more direct approach. “Feel free to say no if you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

 

“Get to the point Charlie.”

 

She should have listened to her own advice. “What would you say if I asked you to talk to Sasha?”

 

Becky blinked several times before she responded with a simple, “Why the hell would you want me to talk to her?”

 

“We thought you might be one of the only people who sort of knows what she’s going through.” Charlotte fought through her trepidation and trudged on. “Maybe you could figure out why she pulled out and try and help her through... Maybe even get her to take the fight again.” She added at the end like the most obvious bait in the world. 

 

Becky leaned further back into the couch. Eyes turned upwards to look at the ceiling while she thought. “We?” She asked though the answer seemed obvious. 

 

“Bayley and I,” Charlotte confirmed. 

 

“Ahh… So you two just figured one fuck up must understand another?”

 

Charlotte fumbled over herself to reassure the other woman. “NO. And if you try that bullshit with me again I’m gonna start getting mad. Don’t put words in our mouths or assume you know what we were thinking. We thought you of all people know what it’s like to have the pressure of that championship on your shoulders. The weight of being considered the best in a sport where everyone is looking to take your head off and build their name off yours. Have you both ‘fucked up’? Of course. But neither Bayley or I look at either of you and only see the bad; the failure, the anger and whatever other bullshit you throw our way.”

 

Becky took a deep breath and brought her eyes down to meet Charlotte’s intense gaze. The intensity scalding her with its genuine care. 

 

“We don’t ignore it and pretend you’re perfect. If you want someone to tell you how great you are and never call out your bullshit you picked the wrong people.” Charlotte had to stop just so she could catch her breath. Straining herself to try and convince this damaged woman that she was more than the sum of her negatives. “We both know who you really are.”

 

Becky was silent for a minute as she pensively stared into Charlotte’s calming eyes. The confidence they held making the Irish woman believe every word and feel them in her heart. “Do you think I can actually change her mind? Wasn’t exactly a civil conversation last time we were together.”

 

“You planning on a fight?”

 

The fighter had to actually think about that for a moment. “Don’t think so. But if she acts like an ass I’ll be an even bigger one back at her.”

 

Charlotte tried not to grin. “I figured as much. As long as it doesn’t start a fight. I don’t expect this to be the easiest talk.”

 

“T’ats puttin’ it lightly.” Becky chuckled just a little. The tension inside her at the prospect needed some way to escape. 

 

“Bayley would appreciate it.” Charlotte added. She knew why Bayley had told her to say that. She just hoped Becky would get the not so hidden meaning behind them. 

 

The redhead sighed and closed her eyes. “... You are gonna owe me big time fer this.”

 

“Name your price?” 

 

Becky held up a finger, “Can I ask fer anythin’?”

 

“Within reason,” Charlotte said. “And before you ask, this is based on my sense of reason. Not yours.”

 

“Let me take you out for dinner when we get back to Boston.” 

 

Charlotte was at a loss for words. Of everything she had thought Becky would suggest, this hadn’t even made the list. “You’ve got a deal.”

 

Becky smiled as her phone began to buzz next to her. “So when’s this whole plan set to fall apart around us?” She joked. Her light demeanor shifting when she glanced down and saw who was calling her. 

 

“I’ve got to actually go call Bayley and figure everything out. You good?” Charlotte asked as she got up and prepared to walk out of the room for her call.

 

Becky just shook her head and kept a smile on her face. The smile dropping once the blonde was out of the room. 

 

The phone’s continued vibration felt ominous but she fought through the hesitation and picked it up. “Hey, Finn… Been awhile.”

  
  


**Sasha**

 

Sasha let out a loud grunt of pain as she was dropped hard on the floor mats for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

 

“You’re doing great Yoshi,” she heard Meng say from nearby. Sasha growled something unintelligible as she pushed herself up off the mat and face her opponent once again.

 

“It is good to see you again Meng,” the Japanese man said just as Sasha attacked. She feinted high toward his face and then struck low, whipping her leg around in a reverse sweep. The man, whose name was Yoshi Tatsu, simply took a long step backward to avoid both attacks and then launched his own as Sasha straightened. She blocked two quick kicks to her flanks before sidestepping out of the way another aimed at her chest. 

 

She covered up and let a punch aimed at her head bounce off her guard before she shot forward and drove a fist into Tatsu’s stomach. Had it connected, Sasha would have folded him over but Tatsu caught her wrist and sent her punch off target. She recovered quickly and sent her arm shooting backward, elbow first, toward his chest. This time she hit and drove him backward a few steps.

 

“Nice!” Meng called. As part of his non-specific training regimen, Meng had been bringing in practitioners of different martial arts to spar with Sasha. The first day she’d contended with a former professional Muay Thai practitioner, the next had been a sambo instructor, and now Tatsu who had a black belt in any form of kung-fu you cared to name. Each man had been a unique and, at times, daunting challenge for Sasha. Her own background was in judo, savate, and boxing yet she never felt she began these sessions at an advantage. They were challenging, exhausting, and exhilarating. Sasha felt alive.

 

She and Tatsu clashed for over an hour before Meng called a halt. Sasha then thanked the martial artist and, at Meng’s assistance, paid him. After Tatsu had left she took a seat on the floor and looked over at Meng. “Who’s coming in tomorrow? Goro?” she asked.

 

“Who the hell is that?” Meng asked in return.

 

“Never mind.”

 

“My wrestling can’t be that bad, I am the champion,” she said, the wondered if she really was. At this rate, she’d be stripped of her belt any day now. 

 

“I’m thinking I’ll find someone for you to wrestle with,” Meng told her as he handed her a bottle of water. Sasha drank most of it away gratefully. “It’s the weakest part of your game after all,” Meng added, drawing a frown from Sasha.

 

“You wrestling is passable at best,” Meng said, dismissing her statement. “You’re just lucky that you’re a damned good striker. You’ve been able to pound on people from outside until they give you your opening. But if you ever had to deal with someone who got you on the mat and kept you there I wouldn’t bet one damn dollar on your chances.”

 

Sasha fumed quietly at this before she stood and said: “What else do you have for me?”

 

“Nothing, I got shit to do,” Meng said as he stood and stretched.

 

“Oh, what do YOU have to do?” Sasha shot back, she wanted to keep training.

 

“Well it’s none of your damn business Banks but my life does not actually revolve around you,” Meng growled.

 

“Whatever old man, you’re just going to go home and watch TV,” Sasha countered.

 

“So what if I was? But no, I’m not.”

 

“Bullshit!”

 

“As you say Banks, whatever.”

 

“Then tell me what you’re doing!” Sasha asked, intrigued despite herself.

 

“You want to keep training that badly then go a gym, you can use mine,” Meng said as he began to leave. 

 

“What? You want a free endorsement?” Sasha shot after him only to force herself to take a steadying breath as Meng burst into laughter.

 

“Your ‘endorsement’ ain’t worth that much any more Banks. Go train or not, I don’t care. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Meng said before he vanished. 

 

Sasha sat quietly on the floor long after she heard her front door close and lock. She really didn’t want to stop but she wasn’t sure about going to Meng’s gym. She wasn’t sure about going anywhere. She hadn’t left her house since first exiling herself there and the idea of leaving was oddly daunting. She had thoughts of swarming crowds and cameras and that was almost enough to make her give up on the idea.

 

Almost.

 

Then she remembered her last message to Bayley, and the other woman’s reply. Sasha had said that she was still trying to be better but that it was so hard. Bayley’s response to this had been to point out that if she really wanted it then she’d have to do the hard parts. One thing Sasha did know was that she wouldn’t ever improve as a person if she became a shut-in. So she grabbed a bag, threw some things in it, and left.

 

Meng’s gym looked just as dilapidated as the first time she’d seen it as Sasha parked her vehicle. Rather than her lambo, she’d opted for her escalade. Not exactly low profile, especially in this neighborhood, but...it wasn’t an Italian sports car at least. Getting out she hurried to the door and ducked inside as though she were worried she was being followed. To her surprise she found Meng already there, shouting at a pair of boys sparring in one of the rings. Clustered about him was a group of other kids who all looked to be between eight and twelve.

 

“I thought you said you had something to do?” Sasha blurted.

 

Meng didn’t look over as he said: “I did.”

 

“So what are you doing here?”

 

“The thing I had to do, my god you’re a dumbass sometimes Banks,” Meng groused at her though there was no venom behind his words.

 

“Fuck you,” Sasha muttered, with a matching lack of malice. “Where am I supposed to train?” she asked.

 

“Here! And watch your damn language!” Meng said as he gestured at the ring.

 

“What?” Sasha asked, confused.

 

“Train THEM Banks, train them,” Meng explained, sounding like his patience was depleting quickly. 

 

“You want me, to...to train kids?” Sasha asked, as though she’d never heard of the concept. Rolling his eyes, Meng jerked his head for her to follow him and they moved off to one side, away from the kids.

 

“You’re not inspiring a ton of confidence right now, Banks,” Meng said accusingly.

 

“I can’t teach kids!” Sasha insisted. The very idea was enough to make her want to flee. 

 

Meng raised an eyebrow at her and asked: “Why not? Worried they’re already better grapplers than you?”

 

Sasha was too dazed to notice the insult and just gabbled: “I just...I can’t. I’m the LAST person you want teaching kids.”

 

“You are the BEST person to be teaching kids. You grew up in a shit neighborhood like most of these kids, you busted your ass and got the top, and you can tell them how NOT to live their lives as adults.” Meng said this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“Great, thanks, I can be a living cautionary tale,” Sasha said with narrowed eyes.

 

“Aren’t you already? Aren’t you the one who's been telling me and that gal of yours that you want to be better? A good place to start would be trying to make sure people learn from you,” Meng countered. This brought Sasha up short.

 

As usual, the gruff old trainer was right. She couldn’t do anything about how she had acted, but she could change how she was acting. Her life had been a monument to selfishness recently. Everything she’d done had been for her, even her ‘engagement’. Trying to do things for someone else seemed like the kind of change she needed to make.

 

Yet she still hesitated. Sasha had never been good around kids, they made her feel awkward. She didn’t know how to talk to them or what to do around them. The idea that she’d be put in charge of molding a group of them was enough to make her laugh if it hadn’t also threatened to make her throw up. She could feel the burden of pressure and expectations pressing down on her already.

 

Meng seemed to see or guess what was going on in Sasha’s mind because he said: “Sasha.”

 

It was only one single word but it was more than enough to get Sasha’s attention. This was the second time ever he’d used her first name, and the tone was something completely new. For once it wasn’t harsh, dismissive, or challenging. It was firm but also understanding, the tone of a mentor giving advice. 

 

“All you have to do…” Meng explained calmly “...Is walk them through a basic footwork drill, and maybe a simple hip throw.” His eyes bore into hers as he said: “You CAN do that.”

 

And for some reason, this assurance was enough. Sasha found herself nodding as she said: “OK”. 

 

“Now get out there,” Meng barked, in something more like his normal tone. Sasha hastened to obey.

 

Against all expectations, Sasha found that she actually enjoyed the session. At first, she was her usual awkward self around kids but she found that talking about fighting, the thing she knew best, relaxed her. In no time she was correcting the kids in their technique and managed to draw some appreciative noises from the kids as she demonstrated a series of throws with one of Meng’s older students. She even consented to take a few pictures with some of the older students who were fans. The fact that she still had any was a bit surreal for her.

 

The first class ended around two in the afternoon and Sasha used the downtime afterward to get in time on the heavy bags with Meng supervising. She’d originally intended to leave after this but she surprised herself by staying through the next and the one after that. It was only when Meng began locking the place up that she realized she’d been there most of the day. The cunning old bastard had managed to get her out of the house for an entire afternoon.

 

“This place really is a shit hole,” she said from where she sat on the ring apron watching Meng close up the gym. Between them, this was the equivalent of ‘thank you’. 

 

“You decorate your home with posters of yourself Banks, I wouldn’t get too uppity about anyone else’s decor,” Meng answered without looking up from what he was doing.

 

“Hey, I…” Sasha started to say but then trailed off. Meng looked over his shoulder at this, an eyebrow raised. Sasha blushed and was furious at herself for doing it but she plowed on: “...IF I have some free time I MIGHT be able to come down here and help again...sometime.” She held her trainer’s eye for a few seconds after this as understanding passed between them.

 

Given how she’d felt about the possibility of working with kids earlier that very day, this was an amazing change of tune. And Sasha was fully aware of it. It was even more surprising given her almost genetically coded intransigence. Sasha wondered if this was a sign of positive personal growth but then pushed this idea away quickly. She didn’t dare allow herself to hope, not like that.

 

“Who said I’d even want you back?” was all Meng said before he went back to work. Again, the implied meaning was very different from the actual words. In this case, it was: you are always welcome here. They both knew it and Sasha found that she appreciated it more than she could say, even if their relationship would have allowed her to say it openly.

 

“Well, I’m going to go and enjoy being a building that isn’t threatening to fall over at any minute. See you tomorrow?” Sasha asked as she dropped down to the floor from the apron. 

 

“Hmmph,” was the only reply she got, but it sounded more affirmative than negative. Sasha took the hint and began to leave but found herself slowing as she drew even with Meng. She knew that if she really meant to try and grow she needed to be mature enough to express something as simple as gratitude. So she took a deep breath and was about to speak when Meng said: “Don’t make it weird Banks.”

 

For a moment, Sasha blinked, unsure of how to react. Then a slow grin spread across her face. “Good night you miserable old shit,” she said, but quietly.

 

“Good night, you horrific chore of a woman.”

 

It was only as Sasha was leaving that she finally checked her phone again. She saw she had a new email and when she saw it was from Bayley, her heart leapt. She’d be able to tell the other woman about how she’d spent the day. She knew it was wrong for her to be doing this sort of thing in hopes that it would help her standing with Bayley, but she couldn’t help it entirely. Doing something, anything, that would make Bayley proud of her seemed like a laudable goal at the moment. Sasha reasoned that if the other woman thought something was admirable, it probably was.

 

Though it took all her willpower, Sasha didn’t look at Bayley’s message until she got back home. She wanted to be able to respond instantly. Flopping down at her kitchen table, she opened the message. At first, she frowned, disappointed with how short it was. But then she looked at its contents, and her whole world turned upside down.

 

_ Sasha, _

 

_ Sorry for how abrupt this is but could you please come to the address below by 7 PM in two days? I have a message I’d like to give you. Please do your best to not bring any extra attention with you. _

 

_ I’d consider it a favor _

 

_ Bayley _

  
  


**Bayley/Becky/Charlotte/Sasha**

 

As per Bayley’s cryptic request, Sasha had come to their meeting alone. Furthermore, she’d finally gotten in touch with Teddy. But only to ask him to send someone over to her home. He’d done this only after venting his spleen on her for several minutes, which Sasha had endured quietly. She knew she deserved it. 

 

When Teddy’s guy had arrived, Sasha had tossed him the keys to her Lambo and told him to drive around downtown LA for a while. Then she’d sent a tweet indicating she might be hitting several clubs that night. Knowing this would be like blood in the water for the sleazier kind of press, Sasha simply waited for half an hour after the man had left and then had taken her Escalade.

 

Her GPS had then led her about an hour west of the city to a modest house on the outskirts of Santa Barbara. It was small enough that her SUV took up more than half of the driveway. Feeling somewhat self-conscious about this as she slunk out of the SUV and into the still but warm night air. Without any further instructions in Bayley’s email, Sasha decided to just approach the door.

 

On arrival, she was surprised to find a manila envelope taped to the door. Inside was a note that read:

 

_ Key is under the flower pot, please put it and this note back where you found them when you get inside.  _

 

_ Bayley _

 

Frowning at the impersonal nature of the note, Sasha nonetheless did as it instructed. Once she was in the house she reached out tentatively to turn on a light. She flicked it on and was greeted by a surprising sight. She was in a tiny foyer, a flight of stairs on her right and a narrow hallway next to them. She assumed that a door to her left lead to a basement, while a door to her right opened into a living room.

 

But these features were not what drew Sasha’s attention. Taking some tentative steps down the hallway, Sasha found herself looking at a wall of pictures all of the same girl. As she walked along the wall she followed the girl from baby photos on through toddlerhood and into grade school. It was only then that she realized she was looking at Bayley. 

 

The realization made her breath catch as she realized where she must be. This was Bayley’s parents' house. Her sense of self-consciousness multiplied one hundredfold. Swallowing hard Sasha thought about leaving, Bayley obviously wasn’t here, but then her eyes fell on another picture. Scrutinizing it, she guessed it showed a 13 or 14-year-old Bayley. To Sasha’s great surprise, Bayley had on all black clothing as well as dark eyeliner and lipstick. Bayley had been a goth kid? 

 

The revelation was enough to bring a small smile to her face, though the feeling behind it was bittersweet. She’d instantly thought of some jokes she could crack at Bayley’s expense over it, but then she had to wonder if she’d ever get that chance again. As she followed Bayley’s life through photos she lingered over high school and college graduation photos, feeling a tug at her heart as she looked at the beaming girl in the photos.

 

She seemed so vivacious and bright, her darker phase obviously long forgotten. The people flanking her in the photos had to be her parents and Sasha could see that Bayley looked a lot like her mother, but her smile was all her dads. More bittersweet feelings at this as she turned back toward the door. Just a few days ago she would have been furious about being lured out here only for Bayley not to be around. But now, she was just resigned to it. 

 

Then she noticed another manilla envelope, this one taped to the inside of the door. Reaching into it she withdrew another note:

 

_ Have a seat in the living room if I’m not there. Food and drinks in the fridge. _

 

Sasha’s curiosity over what was going on was now strong enough to overcome her confusion and feelings of sadness. She definitely didn’t comfortable helping herself to food or drinks so she put the note back and just walked into the living room, dropping heavily onto one of the overstuffed sofas, not bothering to turn on a light. The light provided by the full moon streaming into the living room provided her more than enough to just wait. Sasha didn’t even know what she was waiting for, or how long it would be, all she knew was that she’d wait as long as necessary.

 

Back outside a tiny black rental car pulled up next to the Escalade that dominated most of the driveway. 

 

Both of the people inside the car sat in mutual silence after the engine was cut off for several seconds until the driver broke that fragile state. 

 

“You still want to do this?” Charlotte nervously asked before adding, “We’d both understand if you don’t.”

 

Becky absentmindedly picked at an individual thread near the hole in her jeans. “Thanks… But I said I would.” Even though she knew neither woman would hold it against her, she didn’t want to feel like she let them down. It didn’t hurt that she really wanted to talk to Sasha. This fight meant so much to her and the thought of losing it physically hurt. 

 

Charlotte kept her mouth tightly shut and just nodded. Eyes moving to take in the house and look at the place Bayley had grown up. The modest house had a welcoming aura to it. A certain sense of simplicity and safety that matched the woman who had developed inside it. “Nice place.”

 

The redhead’s hand rested on the door handle. The task in front of her was daunting but she didn’t have much to lose at this point. “It is.”

 

A comfortable silence overcame the car’s interior as the two took in the moment. Charlotte took the initiative, reached across the divide and rested her hand gently on top of the hand Becky had left in the middle of the car. “We wouldn’t have asked you to do this if we didn’t believe in you.”

 

Becky swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. Her chin tilting downwards as she tried to hide the fact that she was entranced by the other woman’s touch. 

 

“I’ll be right out here.” Charlotte offered. Mistaking the other woman’s silence for being nervous about the upcoming confrontation slash hopefully conversation. 

 

Becky just nodded again. Not trusting her own voice right now. 

 

What the hell was wrong with her? She had fooled around with more girls than she cared to admit over the years but Charlotte Flair’s touch somehow made her more nervous than she had ever been in any of those scenarios. 

 

“Thanks, Charlie.” The Irish fighter offered before sucking in a deep breath and opening the door. “Wish me luck,” she called out before getting out and making her way towards the front of the house.

 

Charlotte watched on with butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes following the redhead’s lithe form move up to the front door and perhaps lingering on her legs a bit longer than what could be considered professional. “Good luck Becks.” She whispered into the empty car. 

 

Sasha had been waiting for less than twenty minutes when she heard the car pull up to the house, the lights briefly shining into the living room. Her stomach took advantage of the situation to put on an impressive gymnastic display. She tried desperately to think of anything to say when that door opened again, but her mind was blank.

 

Or almost blank, there was plenty of room for nerves so strong that bordered on hysteria.

 

She stood and sat down several times, trying to decide which would be better. When she was standing she wiped her hands furiously on the back of her jeans and kept trying to moisten her suddenly bone dry mouth. When she sat she prodded and tugged at her hair, nervously trying to get it lay correctly and more convinced by each second that it wasn’t. 

 

She was trying to settle on how to smile when the car turned off, which completely did away with any progress she’d made. For a moment she even considered hurrying to the back, seeking a rear door, and just fleeing into the night. But no, she had to face this. And if that meant facing it with a dry mouth, sweaty palms, awkward smile, and messy hair...then so be it. 

 

Becky’s hand reached out and wrapped around the front doorknob. Turning it slowly and not being met with any resistance as the wood creaked open. The interior of the house somehow looking exactly like what she would have imagined. 

 

She walked further inside taking care to make sure each footfall was loud enough to make anyone inside aware of her entrance. Following the path through the halls towards the light emanating from what must be the living room. 

 

She paused just outside the room for just a moment and steeled herself for the path ahead before rounding the corner and slowly stepping into the soft glow from overhead revealing herself to the room’s inhabitant. “You know, you’re a hard woman to find.”

 

Sasha’s head shot up at the voice. Though she’d never so much as had a civil conversation with its owner, she’d know it forever. Sure enough, of all the people in the universe, Becky Lynch was standing in the doorway to the living room. 

 

A cyclone of various emotions kicked up inside Sasha. Anger, surprise, wounded indignation, hurt, and even a small dose of fear. It was this veritable log jam of powerful feelings that kept her lips firmly shut. All she could do was stare in silence at the woman who had been her rival for so long. Even when Becky had fallen off the face of the Earth, she’d always been the yin to Sasha’’s yang. 

 

The silence stretched and stretched. Her haphazardly cobbled together speeches intended for Bayley were obviously not going to work here. But finding more words was proving difficult as she didn’t even know how or why Lynch was here. But she was rapidly forming a picture of what had most likely just happened. And it made her eyes narrow slightly.

 

“So this was a setup,” she said. It sounded like a question but she spoke with sudden certainty.

 

There was an odd mixture of emotions inside Becky that she couldn’t differentiate currently. Each of them conjoining into a glut that sat in the pit of her stomach and only worsened the longer the silence had stretched. When Sasha finally spoke up the redhead tried to alleviate some of the tension, “If it makes you feel any better I didn’t come up with this plan. If they had consulted me I would have told them this was dumb as shit.”

 

The answer didn’t do anything to help Sasha’s current dilemma. Namely, as always in her life, that anger was quickly shoving its way to the front of her current emotional scrum. But, strangely, she was more aware of it now. Usually, it simply took over and away she went into full boss mode. But now? She realized what was happening. And though it took all her might she was able to keep it from her voice when she next spoke,

 

“They?” was all she asked.

 

Becky felt she owed Sasha her honesty. Even if she hadn’t done anything to deserve it Bayley had more than earned her best attempt. “Apparently Bayley was worried about you,” Becky said. Quietly muttering under her breath, “Don’t know why myself.” Before returning her voice to a normal volume and continuing, “She and Charlotte thought I might be the only person who kinda knows what you’re dealing with. So… Here I am.” She finished lamely. 

 

“The last time we saw each other we were punching each other, we’re really doing the bitchy comments under the breath thing now?” Sasha shot back instantly as she half rose, almost reflexively, all her combative instincts beginning to roar to life. But then she reminded herself of what was happening, and what she had to do even if she didn’t want to. Letting herself fall back onto the sofa again she sagged and said: “I’m sorry.”

 

Some of the anger Becky had been holding inside after the fight cancellation nearly broke free from its moors. Only Sasha’s contrite words had stopped her from probably ruining any chance this meeting had of accomplishing anything other than another fight. “It’s sort of reflex at this point.” She admitted. Becky’s chin tilting downwards for a moment as she thought about how difficult it was to fight back against the negativity that still had its roots in her. “Tryin’ ta get better on that front.” 

 

Even as Sasha worked with all her might to bully her anger back into its cage, another emotion suddenly took advantage of its absence to spring to front. A wholly unexpected one as well. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she let out a manic bark of laughter which she quickly contained with a hand over her mouth. 

 

Becky’s head tilted back up at the surprising noise. One eyebrow rose up, “Am I missin’ the joke here?”

 

Now that she was laughing, Sasha was finding it hard to put a lid on it. But she eventually was able to say: “It’s not even really funny...it’s...it’s actually sad. But what you said about it being a reflex. I’ve....been angry for so long and I don’t even know why. Even when you walked in I was ready to fight you.” Sasha began speaking in an amused tone but as she continued it got sadder and sadder. What she was saying, was pretty depressing. “I...don't know why I told you that…” she finished lamely.

 

“I know the feeling,” Becky countered as she stepped further into the room. Her anger deflating into a general somberness. When she spoke she tried not to let on how much it meant to her but Becky was sure it was obvious. If not by the content than surely by the rawness of her timbre or the subtle pleading inherently contained. “Fight me… Don’t just walk away.”

 

Sasha had figured this might come up, just not this soon. Leaning back against the sofa she looked Lynch directly in the eye and said: “That’s it?...No.”

 

Becky’s frustration and anger resurged but she tried to dampen it. What were Bayley and Charlotte thinking of sending her? She was hardly the greatest orator or the most empathetic person with those she knew and liked. “Fine. Let’s play it this way. Why’d you back out? I’m not stupid ‘nough to think you are scared like some asshat on twitter. Give me somethin’. I really don’t want to ‘ave ta break Ronnie’s arm for that belt. Much rather it be yours.” She said in what Becky honestly believed was a compliment. 

 

Sasha had noted before this that Becky’s accent tended to get thicker as she got more upset. But since she’d never really had to have a direct conversation with the other woman it hadn’t ever been an issue up until now. Squinting and shaking her head she asked: “What? Is that even English?” What she didn’t realize was that some of her own, usually long dormant, Boston accent was coloring her speech.

 

“Yer makin’ fun o’ me English?” Becky exclaimed incredulously. The pitch of her voice rising, “T’ats priceless. Ya need me ta repeat it? Why the fuck did you back out?” Taking care to emphasize every word of her question as if she was pronouncing them straight from a dictionary.

 

“NO, YOU DUMB CUNT!” Sasha blazed back. “I WAS SAYING I COULDN”T UNDERSTAND YOUR LUCKY CHARMS ASS!” The fires were roaring inside of her now and she was tensing to stand when a minor miracle occurred. A car drove past the house and its headlights lit up the room for a second. This brought Sasha’s current location back to the forefront of her mind, and with that, Bayley. 

 

Closing her eyes she shuddered with the effort to calm herself, something she’d never been good at. Even as a child she’d always been a hot head. But first her parents, then Bobby and Teddy, then Bayley, and now Meng had always been around to help her control it. But in recent days she’d realized something she should have grasped long ago. Everyone got angry, but she seemed to be the only one who felt like it was other people’s job to deal with it for her.

 

Clenching her fists so tightly it hurt, she sagged for the second time and covered her eyes with one hand as she took several deep breaths. Without removing her hand she spoke in a rigid tone that made clear she was working hard to restrain her voice. “Again...I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that and I didn’t mean to make fun of your English.”

 

Two apologies within five minutes of each other was a lifetime record for Sasha Banks.

 

Becky stayed quiet and actually looked at Sasha for the first time. It was like looking into a mirror in many respects. When the facade cracked and fell away she could see the kindred spirit inside the other woman. Perhaps Bayley and Charlotte hadn’t been completely off base. She didn’t linger on the feeling but it changed her approach. Not bothering to acknowledge the apology since she knew how hard it must have been for Sasha to offer it. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How quickly everything can fall apart when you push people away and just give in.”

 

Sasha shot a glance at the Irish fighter at this. Her instinct was the resent the sense of superiority she thought she detected from the other woman. But then she decided she was probably imagining this, her judgment obviously wasn’t all that good. “You’ve just got me all figured out then huh?” she asked bitterly.

 

A humorless chuckle preceded her words, “I don’t know. Ya wouldn’t answer me earlier so I’m jus’ tryin’ ta fill in the gaps.” Opening one of her hands and gesturing between them. “By all means though, tell me why I’m wrong.”

 

“You still haven’t told me why I should be having this conversation with you of all people? When I’m not having it with anyone.” Sasha said this a voice equal parts challenging and exhausted.

 

Becky shrugged. “Not sure. But I’m sort of an expert in repressin’ and dealing with t’ings poorly. Plus, it’s not like I’m gonna go out blabbin’ to TMZ or somethin’.” She knew that probably wouldn’t be enough for Sasha so she decided to try revealing something of her own. Looking around the room and all the pictures on the wall with a bitter smile, “If someone had told me just a few days ago I’d be here. In this house. I’d have probably punched them.”

 

Happy to seize on another subject, Sasha looked around the room as well. Photos of the family, the kind of knickknacks one accumulated over a lifetime, all decorated in a way that somehow just made sense. “It...does explain a lot...” she said begrudgingly “...the house I mean.” She still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the fact that Becky and Bayley had obviously had a very close friendship. But she also realized she didn’t really have a right to feel anything over it, least of all possessive. 

 

“She never really mentioned you.” Becky continued. “Not that I’d have expected her to.” 

 

She took another look around the room and could almost see a younger, more carefree, version of Bayley running around. A version that she hadn’t betrayed. 

 

“I yelled at her.” She bluntly stated as her eyes focused on a picture of Bayley in a high school graduation cap. “Said some pretty horrible shit…” Becky had to stop herself for a moment to hide the shaky quality that threatened to overtake her words. “Stuff that she didn’t deserve to hear. And for some reason, she still thinks I would be able to talk sense into you.” The last few words nearly interrupted by a joyless bark of laughter. “... Fat lot of good I’m doin’.”

 

Dimly, Sasha thought for a moment of being angry at Lynch for shouting at Bayley. But even to someone as emotionally clueless as she was, it was clear she had less than no leg to stand on in that case. Besides, something very sobering had occurred to her. Without looking up she asked: “Remember what I told you in Boston? About Bayley always seeing the best in everyone?”

 

A shadow of a smile crept onto Becky’s face and she finally pulled her gaze away from the photo. “And here I am. Seems like she hasn’t given up on either of us.”

 

“...Yet she isn’t here...what does that say about us?” Sasha asked quietly.

 

The words hit at a small insecurity Becky had when Charlotte had initially asked her to do this. “I don’t know… But she doesn’t seem like the type to string us along if there wasn’t any hope.” The words tasting bitter in her mouth before she stopped herself from going down that road. 

 

“I guess…” Sasha almost whispered. She desperately wanted Becky to be right, so much so that she didn’t even stop to think how odd it was that she’d just had that thought. Finally looking up at the other woman she said: “Look, if Bayley saw something in you then there has to be something there. She occasionally might pick assholes to be around, but I would never question her judgment in another person. Mine is garbage. So I’ll just try to save you some time and tell you that I’m not taking the fight again.  The belt is yours, the division, everything.”

 

Becky closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose. Squeezing one of her hands into a tight fist as the lid on her anger threatened to pop off. “I’m not leaving till you at least give me a good reason.” She was offended that Sasha would even throw out that offer. Being given the belt without earning it against the only person to beat her was possibly the most insulting thing she could think of. 

 

Sasha thought about snapping that it was none of the other woman’s business. But she knew they were past that part of the conversation. Like it or not, Bayley was probably right in this as well. She and Becky were more alike than either would ever want to admit. And Sasha could sympathize with Lynch in a way. Had the roles been reversed she would have put on a front that she didn’t care, was happy to take the easy win, but it would have been an act.

 

She would want revenge with every fiber of her being.

 

Looking away, she couldn’t hold Lynch’s gaze for this, she said: “I can’t...ever...go back to fighting. I won’t.” She tried to say more but she found her words failing her.

 

Becky held herself back from reacting right away with her first response. “Why? You keep insistin’ you won’t but can’t give me a reason fer it. It can’t ‘ave jus’ been the presser. So, why?”

 

Finally, Sasha found some dark humor as she chuckled and said: “You’re not that important sweetie.” She thought for a while and said: “Fighting is the one thing I have left, the one thing that gets me up in the morning, and what I think about when I got to bed. Everything I’ve ever tried to replace it with or even bolster it with has failed. Sex, drugs, and booze. They can distract me for a short time but that's it. I get so bored with them so fast and I’m right back to my obsession.” She stopped talking and cocked an eyebrow at Becky saying: “I’m guessing you know a little bit of what that’s like?”

 

The redhead knew all too well. Her own past had been well documented and the old feelings weren’t so far removed that she couldn’t vividly recall them. “Jus’ a lil bit.”

 

“But…” Sasha continued “...I had it pointed out to me recently that people like me, the ones who have only one thing left, we don’t get to be happy like other people. And that makes sense because I realize I only became the monster I’ve been when I gave myself up to it. When fighting became my whole life, I became the Boss. The closer I get to it, the worse I become. You saw that, and have been seeing it. I was trying...SO HARD...to not be that person anymore. That didn’t last more than a few weeks. The fight we were going to have? That environment? Will be the most toxic ever and I don’t want to be around it. I’d rather just be alone and unfulfilled for the rest of my life than keep setting myself up to fail.”

 

Becky stared at the other woman with a frown on her face. The story sounded similar to hers but she wouldn’t insult Sasha by claiming to know exactly what she was going through. “So that’s it? You’re just done? Maybe I was wrong earlier. You actually are scared.” Becky surmised. “You’re scared ta get back up and try again cause history says yer doomed ta fail.”

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes but refused to let herself be baited. “Were you not listening? I just told you I’m scared. I’m scared of turning back into a person I don’t want to be. And I’m scared that putting myself in a pressure cooker for the entertainment of people who only want me at my worst isn’t going to help that. I’m scared because each time I crash it gets worse and worse and I can’t see another end to that cycle accept with me dead without ever having lived a life. So you want to laugh at me for being scared? Fine! But fuck yes I’m scared of that shit.” She stopped talking for a moment to glare at Becky before adding “...I’m not going to get the happy ending I always wanted. But that doesn’t mean I want the story ending early.”

 

“I didn’t mean for it to come across like that… I uh… I get where you’re coming from.” Becky said as she stood there awkwardly. “I used to… Actually, still do, sometimes think that it would be easier to just get away from this all and avoid the temptation that comes with it. In fact, I did just that. Hid away and avoided anything that had to do with fighting… I thought it was easier. Until I got a piece of paper in the mail.” She looked over at the very person who sent her that letter and steadied herself the best she could. “I never said thank you did I.”

 

Sasha had been prepared for something much more argumentative than this so it took her a moment to realize what had happened. When she did, all her old discomfort at accepting this kind of praise came flooding back. “I...I told Flair this but...I thought it just wasn’t right for someone who’d been as good as you were to go out like it seemed you would.” She then gave a bitter laugh. “You know, at the time I told myself that I would avoid your mistakes. That since it was happening to you I’d know not to do it.” She sniffed and said: “Guess I’m just a fucking moron.”

 

Even as she spoke, Sasha could hardly believe she was doing so. She’d never spoken this openly, this candidly, with anyone except for Bayley. Yet here she was talking with Becky Lynch, her erstwhile enemy, as openly as though they were the best of friends. Bizarre though it was, Sasha couldn’t deny anything she’d said. She was speaking her truth. 

 

This knowledge, more than anything else, was causing turmoil within her. She was allowing herself to be more vulnerable than she had in months, if not years, with a woman she had no real reason to trust. Similar they might be, but that wasn’t much comfort. Quite the opposite in fact. Sasha knew full well what ‘the Boss’ would do with the kind of information she’d been sharing with Lynch.

 

Part of her wanted to go on the attack, verbally if not physically. This part of her wanted to lash out and hurt Becky in some way, to even the score as it were. Lynch now knew her darkest secret and inner fears, and she had nothing in return. That situation was enough to cause a tiny swell of panic in her stomach. At any other time since she’d won her title, she would have given in to this impulse. 

 

Tonight she didn’t, tonight she held her tongue. She didn’t know why.

 

After having so much of her life revolve, however indirectly, around this woman, Becky felt an overwhelming sense of indignation on her own behalf but managed to keep it in check. If she had a choice in the matter they wouldn’t be speaking right now. 

 

She didn’t hate Sasha. At least not in the traditional meaning of the word. The hatred for Sasha was a buffer against her own self-hatred. An easy scapegoat that allowed her to keep living in a fantasy where Sasha was some great evil that she stood defiantly against. 

 

“After our fight and going to the hospital I honestly didn’t know what to do with myself.” Becky started up as she gazed out the window towards the quiet street. “I thought you’d taken everything from me and I pictured myself someday getting a chance to take it all back. It didn’t take long for those dreams to go away. First doctor I went to gave me bad news… So did the second… and the third…” Becky darkly chuckled and continued to vacantly stare out the window. Hardly believing that of everyone she could be opening up to like this it was Sasha Banks in the end. “After the fifth one tellin’ me the same thing I just… gave up.” The redhead lost herself in her own head reliving the dark time after her surgery and was silent for an uncomfortable stretch. Forgetting that she had an audience. 

 

Almost the only thing that could have knocked Sasha out of her gloomy reflections was Becky being as open and candid as she had been. This was so unexpected that she found she didn’t have anything to say. Instead, she just sat staring at the other woman, waiting to see what else Lynch might say.

 

Eventually, Becky came back to the present and continued. “Carmella was… an easy distraction. Something to play with and help me forget how much I hated being alive. Every minute was torture and at least when she was there I didn’t have to think about it.” She finally took her eyes away from the window but still wouldn’t look at Sasha directly. If she had, Becky probably wouldn’t have been able to force the words out. “It only worked for so long though.”

 

Sasha snorted softly at this and said: “Well, at least you didn’t propose to her and agree to do a TV show with her.”

 

Becky almost laughed at the comparison but she didn’t want to lose what composure she held onto. “No, I didn’t do that… I’m actually a bit surprised she never mentioned this in any of her tell-alls with Mandy. I did ask her to help me kill myself though… So, there’s that.” She admitted. 

 

Sasha nodded, it was all she could do. She supposed she should have been shocked or appalled but she wasn’t. She’d thought about her own pistol more than a few times over the last year or so. She knew that Bayley would be furious at her for not leaping to her feet and trying to comfort the other woman, but maybe this was a case where Sasha knew how to handle someone better than Bayley. She was dealing with someone so like herself, that she knew Becky didn’t want comforting.

 

“Fuck her, and Zelina, maybe WE are the ones with garbage taste in people,” Sasha said. Not so much in solidarity as just as an open admission.  

 

“I can’t argue with that,” Becky replied. “The funny thing is she actually said no. Doing it on purpose was apparently a step too far, but slowly drowning in alcohol and drugs was perfectly fine.” Shaking her head in disbelief at how Carmella’s refusal to do something was the reason she was still here today. “After that, I sort of just drifted along. Nothing really bothered me; the bad press, bum knee, horrible girlfriend, getting kicked off CCS. While it was happening I didn’t feel anything. Like it was happening to someone else, ya know? More worried about gettin’ ta tomorrow I was. All the other shite di’n’t bother me till I actually started tryin’ again when I got ta Boston.”

 

Sasha tried to digest everything she was hearing. It was so strange to hear what was basically her life story, with a few details changed, coming out of someone else’s mouth. It all felt the same hearing it though. The numbness, the burying oneself in a shallow pursuit of pleasure, not feeling like you had a purpose in life. It was all there. Yet, one thing above all others was sticking with her. She processed silently for a long time when she spoke it was to ask, very quietly: “Can I ask you something, Lynch?”

 

Becky barely heard the question. If it wasn’t so unnervingly silent inside the house she probably wouldn’t have heard it at all. “Don’t see why not at this point.”

 

Sasha nodded but suddenly found that what she’d wanted to know was nigh on impossible to express. She took a deep breath and asked: “When you asked...when you asked her. And you thought she would say yes....did you feel relieved or sad?”

 

Sasha asked the horrible question because she had to know if anyone else had felt what she had.

 

There was no point in being dishonest at this point so Becky answered succinctly, “Nowadays I think I’m relieved she said no. Back then it just made me feel worse. Couldn’t fight anymore. Couldn’t stop pushing away the people who’d been there for me. Couldn’t even get her to help me to that.” Becky dryly chuckled at how pathetic her statements were. “Even the one thing I thought I had control over was taken away.” She thought about how Charlotte or Bayley would respond to this reveal and knew they would immediately rush to comfort her. Even though that comfort would only make her feel worse in the moment. It would only serve as a reminder that she had failed and fallen so low. 

 

Sasha was quiet for a long time. When she spoke it was in a hollow voice that sounded very unlike her own. “I thought...I thought when I made the decision it would...it would help. Like, I thought it would tell me something. If I felt relieved I’d know that I really didn’t want to live anymore. And if I felt sad or scared then I’d know I did.” She trailed off and swallowed hard before forcing herself to add: “I felt nothing. I was thinking of killing myself and I felt nothing. Sometimes...sometimes it feels like I haven’t felt anything but anger for...since before our fight.”

 

“If I’m honest I blamed you for everything after that fight.” Becky started softly. Her voice devoid of any anger and instead filled with a contemplative lilt. “I remember gettin’ a cold and somehow blamin’ you. But things were rollin’ downhill well before that. After I got to Boston everythin’ was fine. It was easy just livin’ as Rebecca fer a bit. That first fight back was better than anythin’ I’d felt when tryin’ to fill the void. No pressure, no expectations. It reminded me why I love fightin’.” 

 

Sasha noticed that Becky hadn’t commented directly on what she’d said, but supposed there really was no answering it. And she thought she understood that the other woman was trying to make. “I am...well Bayley would want me to say I’m glad you found that. And I guess I am. But...that high we get? It’s the worst thing in the world for me. It’s like I said, it just greases the slide that leads me back to a place I don’t want to go anymore.” For the first time in a while she looked up at Becky, but the words caught in her throat. She’d wanted to say ‘you know’ but she found she couldn’t do it. She was afraid the other woman wouldn’t know, that she wouldn’t understand.

 

Becky smiled sadly at the other woman. “That was my first fight back though… No one cared all that much before. It was a cute piece to write about. America does love a comeback story. But after that fight, I was quickly reminded of why I hate fightin’. It’s all the shite that comes wit’ it. I’d be happy to fight you at a bar and buy ya a drink afterwards wit no hard feelin’s either way. I love fightin’. I fuckin’ hate the fightin’ business.”

 

Sasha didn’t know what to say to this so she decided to wait to see what point Becky was trying to make. “Yeah?” was all she said as she fidgeted on the couch.

 

“That high you talk about. I get it too. That feelin’ like yer on top of the world and nothin’ can touch you.” Becky admitted. “But that’s the easy part. It’s the fallin’ back ta earth that’s the problem. ‘Specially when you’ve pushed away the people who’d help catch ya.” 

 

Sasha thought about this, she couldn’t disagree with anything Becky had said. But she got the sense that Lynch had some larger thing she was driving toward. So Sasha just said: “You’re sounding like a shrink.”

 

“It’s a lot easier to talk ‘bout this stuff when it’s not just about me,” Becky admitted. “I don’t like analyzin’ myself. Usually just leaves me pissed off and lashin’ out. But I’m tryin’ to figure it out.” A shuddering breath making its way out of her body. “You know earlier when you said you were scared?” Not even bothering to wait for Sasha’s confirmation before continuing. “You aren’t the only one.”

 

“You know how many times I’ve accused you of being scared? I never really believed it, it was something that I wanted to believe. But I admit I never thought you’d actually tell me you were. And especially not about this,” Sasha said. She was quiet for a while when she said: “It’s lonely not being able to admit to anyone because of the persona you’ve trapped yourself in.”

 

“It really is… People like us don’t ‘ave that luxury.” Becky though on that for a moment. Her thoughts turning to those around her who somehow still believed in her. The fact that Charlotte was still just outside filling her with a warmth that she didn’t think about too hard. “We’ll always be a little closed off. Maybe after we retire and ride off into the sunset we can just be ourselves. But it doesn’t have to be so lonely. Jus’ havta make the firs’ step and let someone in… Course that an ‘ell of a lot easier said than done.” Her voice softening just a tad at the end almost like she was exchanging an inside joke with an old friend. 

 

Sasha thought about just how correct this was. And it brought to light something she’d been wondering about earlier before she’d gotten distracted. “Did you...if I can ask...did you actually get to talk to Bayley?” Sasha felt there was no reason to continue pretending that she and the reporter hadn’t had a relationship. Lynch had to know.

 

Becky caught the obvious hesitation from Sasha and wondered exactly how close she and Bayley had been. “Nope.” Unable to stop a hint of sadness at that fact from leaking into her voice. “I uh… Charlotte sort of came to me on her behalf.” Becky was hoping that Sasha wouldn’t catch just how much that hurt. 

 

“Yeah…” Sasha echoed sadly “...I haven’t even seen her...well, it’s not like I deserve it. We just...when we were together…” She trailed off, unable to find her way out of her own parentheses and completely unaware of the effect her words were having on the other woman in the room.

 

Becky’s mind ground to a halt and the words that had been ready to leave her mouth burned to ash on her tongue. The initial wave of irrational anger bowled into her and she couldn’t help herself from immediately comparing herself to the Sasha she knew. What did she have that Becky didn’t? She tried to get away from that thought train before it barreled off the tracks but she could feel the skid coming a mile away. “You were together?” She asked, before clarifying for herself. Hoping that maybe she had heard wrong. “You and Bayley?” Her voice forcefully monotone to try and hide the fire that once again had sprung to life inside of her. 

 

Sasha was barely listening, her head was a million miles away. All she said was: “Before...before all this.” She added, in quiet afterthought: “Before I fucked everything up.”

 

The confirmation hit her like a ton of bricks and she could feel the train-hopping off the tracks. Slowly she stepped backwards to create some more distance between them. “Oh… That’s…” Her mind failing to come up with anything that wouldn’t blow up the fragile peace between them. Even though she had come to accept that she and Bayley were better off as friends it still hurt. Every interaction she had with Bayley in the past suddenly possessing a new level to it. Moments that had seemed one way now felt like an altogether different animal. “... Uh, something.”

 

Sasha had emerged from her reverie just in time to catch Lynch’s last words, more importantly, her tone. Frowning at the implication she looked over at Lynch and said: “You didn’t know…?” It wasn’t a question, more a surprised statement. “I just...I thought all the time you two spent together…” she trailed off as she realized Bayley had never told anyone. She’d been that ashamed of the time they’d spent together.

 

“Believe it or not the topic of you didn’t come up much between us.” Becky bit back before closing her eyes and bringing one of her hands up to run through her hair. “That came out more bitchy than I wanted.” Trying her best to fight against the tidal wave of emotions that kept whispering in her ear to let her anger out on the other woman. “I t’ink she knew you’re a bit of a touchy subject for me. It only ever came up when she was doin’ ‘er job and tryin’ ta interview me.”

 

Sasha nodded with her eyes closed. Now that she was able to process it sounded exactly like something the Bayley she’d known would do. Internalize her own issues to let others around her be happier. Taking another deep breath she said: “I’m sorry I brought it up it’s...well, I guess you now know part of the reason I was trying to be better.”

 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Becky replied. Biting her lip as she started to once again pick at the hole in her jeans with her free hand. “How…” She stopped herself before she even asked. If she was honest Becky would rather be anywhere else right now. The wound she thought had healed felt raw and open once again. With time she knew it would close back up but it didn’t stop it from hurting right now. “It’s just… It’s nothing. Jus’ wished she’d a trusted me enough to tell me.” She couldn’t say for certain if she wouldn’t have pursued Bayley had she known. At the time she was looking for something to hold onto and Bayley was the most consistent and trustworthy buoy in the storm. It didn’t hurt that they got along well and the brunette wasn’t exactly hard to look at. 

 

Sasha studied Becky Lynch intently. What she was hinting at was enough to touch off deeply irrational and powerful feelings of jealousy within her. Aware though she was that she had no right to feel any such thing, there were still there. But she also saw the obvious work the Irish woman had just put in to restrain herself, a struggle Sasha knew very well. So she decided not to press that particular point.

 

Instead, she said: “She has to care about you a lot, I saw those interviews you guys did. And I’ve seen how she’s talked about you on TV.” She stopped talking as her face took on a sadly wistful look and she added: “I’m jealous of you for that.”

 

Sasha was trying hard to conceal her more ignoble feelings as she spoke. And she’d never been particularly good at hiding any feelings at all. The small part of her she couldn’t smother was telling her that Lynch was rival now, a rival for Bayley. But she couldn’t give into that part of her, not again. 

 

Becky wished she felt comforted by the other woman’s words. Maybe tomorrow she could find some solace in them but it did little to dull the sting in her chest. “You’ve got nothin’ ta be jealous of.” Admitting that felt both like a weight lifted off herself and a fresh dagger into her heart. The combination of such polar opposite emotions making her skin crawl. “Did you love her? Back then?”

 

For once, Sasha’s impulse to lash out was muted. Instead, she just considered the question, objectively. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about this but she had to admit, she’d never tried to be clinical. And, to her surprise, a forensic approach netted a genuine answer that she hadn’t been expecting. “No…” she admitted “...I wanted to. And I think we could have gotten there but I wasn’t ready to love anyone then. I told myself I did, but I told myself I loved Zelina. What I did feel was...complete. Bayley has an amazing ability to make everyone feel better about themselves but imagine that all the time. Never having to be anyone but me, because that's all she wanted. No one had ever done that for me before.”

 

She then gave a bitter laugh as she added: “But now? Well...do I love Bayley? Oddly, I think all the shit I’ve been through helps me admit that I think I could and still want to. But,...some bridges are just burnt.” She then raised an eyebrow at Lynch asking: “It sounds like...you two might have been…” She couldn’t finish.

 

Becky understood Sasha’s words all too well. It was easy to let down all the carefully crafted walls around the reporter. She exuded comfort like a giant teddy bear in the middle of an empty room. The other woman’s final inquiry poked at the wound and she had to swallow down the reflex to answer with avoidance and a quick quip. “We weren’t anythin’.” Becky was proud of how little her voice wavered. “Jus’ friends is all.” Only a tiny sliver of old disappointment tinting her words. 

 

Though it was presumptuous on a galactic scale for her to do so, Sasha felt relieved. Swallowing hard she let out a tired chuckle and said: “You know Lynch, this is the longest we’ve ever talked without having to be either separated or one of us storming out.” 

 

“Last contender would be that one time in Boston,” Becky said back. Glad that Sasha had changed subjects for now. She wasn’t sure where exactly she and Bayley stood right now. The new knowledge that she and Sasha had been an item still rattled her. Her own thoughts on the matter very unsettled. “Pretty sure even if we both called ESPN right now they wouldn’t believe it.”   
  


Sasha gave a sad smile to this but didn't answer. Instead, she said: “I appreciate you coming to talk to me, Lynch. I know if it was uncomfortable to me it was to you too. And I could apologize all night for all the shit I’ve said and done to you and it wouldn’t mean anything. I’m just telling you that the Sasha Banks you knew, the Boss, is gone now. Or, I’m trying to put her away. I’m sorry if that messes with your plans, I really am. But I’ve gotta do what’s right for me.”

 

With that she stood, fully understanding that if she reached the door and left it would mean the end of her life. She might continue to exist, but the things she’d defined herself by would be gone. No more fighting, no more fame, no more...Bayley. But she forced herself to begin walking, taking a course that would bring her right past Lynch. Maybe it was nothing, a simple matter of circumstance.

 

Or maybe she was hoping.

 

Becky felt the crushing weight of Sasha’s words. Her own selfish desire to fight the other woman, win or lose, clashed with the other side of her that deeply understood where Sasha was coming from. There was a finality in the other woman’s words that didn’t sit well with Becky.

 

At that moment Becky understood how Sasha must have felt when she sent that letter. 

 

Sasha was just about to pass by Becky when she seemed to unfreeze and her hand reached out to grasp the crook of the champions elbow. The contact between them causing both to stop and time to seemingly stand still. “Is it what’s right? Or what’s easier?” She challenged softly in hopes that it would help avoid a potential fight. “I thought walking away would make things easier. Truth be told it did… For a while. Then the regret comes in. Waking up every day wondering why the hell you didn’t do everything different. It’s not living. Being dead would be easier than living every day knowing you fucked everything up.” She looked Sasha dead in the eyes and continued, “I don’t want you to go out that way… Feels wrong.” Echoing Sasha’s thoughts on why she sent that letter. “Yer far better than that.” The unfinished addendum ‘far better than me’ bounced around her head as she locked eyes with the other woman. 

 

Sasha had tensed as though she’d been shocked on Becky’s hand making contact with her arm. She was about to yank it away violently, to storm out of the house and the world, when Lynch’s words hit her. At first, she didn’t want to listen. But as they continued, she found her arm relaxing almost against her will. 

 

Was she really just being a coward? Maybe by leaving she could avoid the boss but it would be regressing toward the mean. She might not get worse, but she’d freeze herself in time. She wouldn’t get better either. Her life would become static and then she would stagnate. She would be alive, but not living. And she saw all of these possibilities in a single flash of insight. But that was the problem, there were just possibilities.

 

“I don’t know if I can...I know I don’t want to be the Boss anymore,” was all she said, dropping her head so her hair hid her face.

 

“You can’t just ignore that part of you,” Becky said. Trying to hold herself together as she spoke so openly to a person she hadn’t ever imagined speaking to like this. “Pretending that isn’t part of who you are won’t help. Yer only givin’ it more power. Lettin’ it dictate yer life.”

 

Becky knew she could very well be speaking to herself right now. She had always tried to separate her lives, which in retrospect only helped her fake mask slowly morph into a reality. Playing the part for so long had made it a part of her that she couldn’t just shake off. 

 

“Ya have ta take back control… And ya can’t do that if you don’t accept that the Boss is just a part of you. It’s not about cutting it out. It’s about learnin’ to live wit’ it and balancing it out.” Becky was surprised that she wasn’t shaking on the outside. “I know you think yer makin’ yer own decision to walk away. But all I see is the Boss runnin’ the show even if you don’t.”

 

It was a miracle it had taken this long, but it finally happened. Sasha’s temper flared.”You don’t know anything about me,” she snapped before she yanked her arm away and stomped toward the door. Unfortunately, in doing so, she knocked a photo off a small side table. She watched it fall as though in slow motion as it hit the ground with the tinkling sound of cracking glass.

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” she said, far more panicked than the act of breaking a picture frame truly warranted as she dropped to her knees and retrieved the picture. She turned it over and inspected it, as though hoping it would somehow be fixed if she did so. 

 

She found herself looking directly into Bayley’s face in profile. It looked like it must have been one of her senior photos. The younger Bayley was looking off to the left of the frame with a small smile on her face. Sasha remembered the expression so well. It hinted at a private amusement, as though its wearer knew something the rest of the world only guessed, and yet was as warm and inviting as a sunny day.

 

The crack in the frame caused by the fall was right over Bayley’s forehead. The image of this damage over the smiling face struck Sasha like a tidal wave. 

 

God damn metaphors.

 

“You see?” she asked quietly, not looking around. “I can’t control it...her…” she paused and sighed “...Myself. And I’m worried that if I let go one last time, I’ll be gone forever. And...and she’ll...I’ll never see her again.”

 

Becky was beginning to really see the depth of Sasha’s feelings. She couldn’t help but wonder if Bayley mirrored those feelings. Part of her expected the brunette did. The thought didn’t soothe her or fill her with rage. It wasn’t closure but it was close to it. “You prepared to go on without tryin’? You prepared to see her wit’ someone else?” Becky hesitated for a second but she knew that if she was in Sasha’s position a push would be needed. Sasha didn’t know what had already happened, “Maybe I’ll ask her out to dinner after all. Do ya know of any good Irish pubs in town?”

 

Sasha wasn’t dumb, she knew what Becky was doing. Which wasn’t to say it wasn’t effective as the flames rose inside her for the briefest of moments. Standing slowly she turned around and glared at the woman who had been her rival for so long and now...she didn’t know what she was. And for the briefest moment, some of the old antagonism returned and the air seemed to crackle just a bit. Even when this faded Sasha was left with a heartbeat of feeling the old thrill. Taking a steadying a breath and grinding her teeth she saw that Lynch was feeling something similar.

 

She let the silence stretch and stretch until…

 

“I need time to think.” It was all she was going to say at the moment.

 

Becky slowly breathed in through her nose in an attempt to quiet the blood rushing through her veins. She had been prepared to just fight Sasha right here and now if she was dead set on leaving for good but being surrounded by physical reminders of Bayley kept her from acting on it. The tiny crumb left out there was enough to satiate her for now. It would have to be. “That’s all I can ask.” Becky’s demeanor changed as she resigned herself to hope. “I’m not actually going after her by the way.” She blurted out as the guilt over her last comment came forefront. A flash of blonde hair in her mind’s eye bringing a slight flush to her face as she averted eye contact with the other fighter. 

 

Sasha blinked once at abrupt addendum but didn’t say anything. She believed Lynch, but she also guessed there was more to the story. Still, it was a mystery for another day. Replacing the frame on the table, Sasha moved back the couch where she’d been sitting and dropped back down. “I may be pathetic, but there’s a chance she might show.”

 

Becky nodded and stood there quietly for a minute. She knew Sasha wouldn’t want her of all people to offer anything right now. As much as she also wanted to see the reporter Becky wasn’t sure if she was ready. She had believed she was up until Sasha revealed they had been together but now she wasn’t so sure. “I’ll leave you be then… If you do see her… Nevermind… Drive safe.” And with that, the redhead walked outside without looking back. There was nothing more for her to do besides wait.

 

She walked down the sidewalk in a daze. Feeling more tired than she normally would after a fight or a hard training session. But it was a different type of tired. Her body was tired but that was only a symptom. She wasn’t the most religious but Becky felt like her soul was tired. 

 

Charlotte had long ago gotten bored of sitting in the car and had been leaning against the hood of the rental. Idly staring up at the night sky and all the stars that littered the blackness with tiny specks of light. She didn’t get to see them all that often back in Boston. The light from the city making it a rare sight to see even just a few stars. 

 

She was taken out of her silent reverie when the sound of the front door opening ripped through the quiet that had blanketed the night and captured her attention. 

 

When Becky walked towards her Charlotte felt an irrational need to wrap her arms around the other woman but held back. She knew better than to push Becky with her head obviously not quite all there. It would be better to let the other woman come to her. But she definitely didn’t expect it to happen like this. 

 

“You alright?” Charlotte had softly asked. Standing upright and taking a step towards the fighter as she came closer. 

 

Becky didn’t give her an answer before Charlotte suddenly found herself with the redhead wrapped tightly around her. Rather than questioning it the blonde just let one of her arms loop around Becky’s back while her other gently weaved itself through her crimson locks. 

 

“You need anything?” Charlotte whispered trying not to startle the other woman. Holding her a little tighter when she felt Becky shake her head against her shoulder. “Alright. Whenever you’re ready.”

 

Bayley really hadn’t had any intention of being there tonight.

 

She’d told herself she wasn’t ready. She told herself that it wasn’t about her, that it was about the two fighters. She told herself that it was for the best.

 

She’d even believed it for a while.

 

But as she drove along the highway back toward LA, she found her resolve crumbling. Tonight, at her parent’s house, would be three of the most impactful people to ever be part of her life. And, if she was honest, she loved all of them, even Sasha, in their own way. And she also knew that she missed all of them, even Sasha. Even Charlotte, whom she spoke to regularly. She wanted them in her life, all of them. And she could no longer deny this to herself.

 

She’d tried, she’d failed, and she’d tried again. Similar results. For better or worse that ragtag bunch of dysfunctional wrecks were as much her family as her parents. And even though she’d lost Becky, and Sash for even longer, she was realizing that she had to try and get them back. Even if they slammed the door in her face yet again.

 

Even if they did it one thousand times more. 

 

She had to.

 

Performing a U-turn that was all KINDS of illegal on a highway, Bayley began speeding back toward Santa Barbara.

 

Charlotte and Becky had remained in their own little bubble for a few minutes. The peaceful quiet of the neighborhood helped slowly calm Becky from her emotionally overwhelmed state. Although she could admit a large part of the might have had to do with the blonde boulder that kept pulling her back to the ground. 

 

Eventually, Becky had slowly pulled away. “Can we hit up Clex’s drive-thru tonight? I could use a pick me up.”

 

Charlotte had simply smiled and nodded as she got into the driver’s seat while Becky circled around to get in the other side. Glad that whatever cloud had been hovering over the redhead seemed to have cleared for now. 

 

She threw the car into reverse and began to carefully back out of the driveway only to smash her brakes when a pair of headlights suddenly appeared behind her. Giving her and Becky a jolt at how quickly she hit the brakes. 

 

Bayley was in no sense a stunt driver, nor was her car really designed for drifting. Yet she was driving like the first and almost managed to do the second twice on her way to her parent's house. It was just a minor miracle that no troopers were around. She was moving so quickly that when she rocketed around the corner and onto her parents street that she barely had time to bring her car screeching to a halt as a car backed out of her parent’s driveway.

 

She had time, but she left an enormous black streak on the pavement and the smell of melting rubber in the air. Several lights turned on in the houses around her and as she got out of her car she heard someone shout: “Hey! What’s going on out there?!”

 

“Sorry, Ms. Stratus! Lost control!” Bayley called back.

 

“Now that was some goddamn driving, hell yeah!”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Austin,” Bayley called as she hurried toward the other car. 

 

Charlotte got out of the car first and turned to see the familiar brunette moving towards them. “Well, that’s one way to say hi.” She joked. The initial burst of panic had turned into relief that nothing bad had happened. 

 

Bayley was grateful that the night would hide her blush as she looked at how close she’d come to an accident. In a sheepish voice, she said: “Yeah...uh...sorry.” She then stepped forward and gave her friend a hug before asking: “How did it go?”

 

“Don’t worry about it. I haven’t-” Charlotte started only to be interrupted by an Irish accent floating over the car.

 

“What the hell was that Charlie?” Becky asked as she lethargically dragged herself out of the car. Taking her sweet time before she stared over the car’s roof and saw just exactly who they had nearly run into. Any further words dying in her throat the second she recognized it as Bayley. 

 

Part of her just wanted to dive back inside the car and hide but that was impossible at this point. Instead of doing that she just froze on the spot and peered over at the reporter. A few hours ago she would have done anything for a chance to speak with Bayley and beg for her forgiveness but Sasha’s earlier revelation plagued her. Doubt swiftly creeping in to stay her tongue.

 

Charlotte saw the hesitation and self-doubt creep in. Quickly stepping in to try and keep things from getting more awkward than they already would surely be. “Nothing to worry about Becky. We’re all fine. No one got hurt.”

 

Becky nodded along out of reflex but was hardly paying attention to anything Charlotte said. She averted her eyes from Bayley after a few seconds. Despite everything, she didn’t want to push and make the brunette uncomfortable. She tried to remember she was just doing her a favor and that Bayley didn’t owe her anything for it. In all honesty, Becky had no idea how she felt right now. She supposed some part of her should be jumping at the opportunity but instead she remained frozen and unable to think of a single thing to say. 

 

Bayley was transfixed.

 

She’d rehearsed in her head how this would go dozens if not hundreds of times. Yet now that the moment was here, her mind was a complete blank. Possible courses of action whipped through her mind at warp speed as she stared at Becky. The Irish woman’s features so familiar and yet so alien now.

 

She made her decision.

 

Stepping slowly forward, each step seeming to take an eternity, Bayley advanced. She saw Becky shifting uncomfortable on her feet, her hand moving automatically to that one particular point on her jeans were the thread had already worn bare. But Bayley kept walking, staring straight ahead. In what felt like a lifetime that took no time, she was standing right in front of Becky. She didn’t say anything at all, she just stared.

 

Charlotte watched on and stayed quiet. She knew how important this moment was for both women and didn’t want to interrupt. 

 

Becky’s nerves had driven into high gear with every step Bayley took. Even when Bayley stood right in front of her the Irish fighter couldn’t meet her gaze. The shame she felt for what she had said crept back in. Her jaw set so tight that she was almost worried it would crack from the pressure. She couldn’t stay still and kept fidgeting as Bayley simply looked at her. It felt like everything inside was being laid bare for all to see and there was nothing she could do to stop it. But if anyone deserved to see it was surely the two other woman out here and she fought against the urge to fold in on herself, pull back up those old walls and avoid the moment. 

 

When Bayley had waited for so long that she was certain Becky would not be speaking first, she simply cleared her throat. Becky’s gaze came up and Bayley held it, her eyes boring into the other woman’s.

 

The redhead fought to not look away. She used to be able to look at Bayley and know almost instinctively how she was feeling but right now she had nothing. Every moment that they held each other’s gaze without a word being spoken ratcheted up the unease inside of her stomach. She had to blink away a fleeting vision of Sasha and Bayley wrapped around each other. Trying her best to not react and allow the other woman whatever she felt was deserved. 

 

Becky even kept her hands at her side, half convinced that Bayley would hit her and she would simply allow it. Now that she was face to face with the other woman Becky knew without a shadow of a doubt that she hadn’t forgiven herself. It took all her strength to stand in one place and not run away. But running wouldn’t solve anything. If even a part of herself believed what she had told Sasha then Becky had no choice. Whatever Bayley decided she would have to live with it. 

 

Bayley had made her decision on the way over, and now she knew it was right for her. Tensing she drew her breath and opened her mouth to speak. But as she did she turned her head to one side, her eyes widening as she looked over Becky’s shoulder. The Irish woman, who was happy for an excuse anyway, started to turn and look.

 

That was when Bayley drove her fist into Becky’s stomach.

 

It had to be more surprise than anything that caused Becky to drop to the ground, she’d certainly been hit much harder. But down she went in any case. Bayley thought she heard Charlotte let out a kind of shocked squeak but she didn’t turn. She grimaced and rubbed her hand. Grimacing without looking down she said, in a breathless voice: “You deserved that”

 

Becky sat down on the cold pavement as she tried to catch her breath. Instead of verbally responding she just nodded sadly and kept her eyes trained on the gravel. She heard Charlotte start to step closer but held her hand up to call off the blonde. “Yer not wrong,” were the first words she spoke. Making no move to get back to her feet, content to just stay on the ground and let Bayley have her moment. 

 

Bayley rubbed her hand again, wondering briefly if Becky’s stomach was made of wood, but then knelt and held out a hand to the other woman. Pulling her to her feet, she looked at Becky once more and made her final decision. Pulling her in so fast that she felt Becky tense, Bayley wrapped the Irish woman up in a bear hug tighter than she’d ever given.

 

“Please don’t ever give me another reason to do that…” she whispered right into Becky’s ear as she held her former and, hopefully, once again friend. She felt her eyes getting wet but she managed a small chuckle as she added: “I don’t think I can get the drop on you twice.”

 

Becky couldn’t help but tense initially at the hug. She was still a little on edge about the information she had learned earlier but it had been so long since getting a real Bayley hug that her insecurity over that fact vanished in a heartbeat. A heartbeat that saw her grabbing the other woman back with as much strength as she thought Bayley could handle. Burying her head into the reporter’s shoulder and letting her tears soak into the fabric there. Muffled whispers of, “I’m so sorry,” repeating without end as Becky let herself fall apart in front of the two women who had become so important to her. 

 

Though she wasn’t crying Bayley was clinging to Becky as much as the other woman was to her. It wasn’t just happiness, all the old sadness and anger that she’d been harboring toward Becky was present too. But only briefly, it was driven away quickly. She held Becky and turned her head to kiss the other woman on the cheek. “I know Becks...I know,” she whispered back as she held the fighter.

 

Bayley had made her choice. Yes, she would be better about standing up for herself. Yes, Becky did still have work to do if they were ever going to get back to where they were. But in the end, Bayley had decided to be who she was at heart. Someone who chose to help those who had stumbled, even if they pulled her down into the mud with them. Because she believed everyone could ‘be better’.

 

Bayley held Becky for well over a minute, listening to the fighter murmuring in her ear and just trying to take some of the pain away. But then, hearing a slight sniffle nearby Bayley turned to see Charlotte standing nearby, lip quivering. Bayley’s own composure was under great duress but she still managed to smile and nod.

 

“Come here  _ hermana, _ ” Bayley said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

 

Charlotte took no time in closing in on the two and wrapping her arms around both of them. Her taller frame making it easy to fit the smaller women within. Each of her hands settling on the back of both women’s head and holding them just a bit tighter. 

 

Becky allowed herself to soak in the safety she felt while sandwiched between both women and kept her head buried into Bayley’s shoulder. One hand slipping from where it had been around the brunette to slide around Charlotte as well. She couldn’t help herself from trying to find a way to downplay the seriousness of the moment. Mumbling out in a pathetic imitation of her normal self, “You know normally threesomes require much less clothin’ than this.”

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Charlotte muttered as she shook her head in disbelief. 

 

“Watch it, we’ve both punched you before,” Bayley said with a wet laugh, her own tears falling now. She hugged them both tighter as she said: “I’m still kind of mad at you, but I love you too.”

 

Becky swallowed the lump in her throat and just nodded into the reporter’s shoulder as she fought back another wave of emotion. “I get it… Thanks… Fer everythin’.” She wanted to be as honest as possible and spoke softly to both women. “I still don’t know if I’m ready.”

 

Charlotte felt a wave of what could only be love hit her and she silently grasped around till she found Becky’s hand. She didn’t care if Bayley was there or not. It was too late to pretend anymore. She leaned down to press a kiss against the redhead’s forehead. “One thing at a time Becks.”

 

Bayley watched as best she could with great interest. After Charlotte pulled back from Becky she had to fight a stupid grin off her face. Turning to Becky she said: “You’ll get there, and speaking of getting there.” Stepping out from the hug she reached into her shirt and pulled out the chain there and added: “I’m still going to give this back when you have one to replace it with.”

 

She was holding out Becky’s four-month chip.

 

Becky looked up at the chip for a moment before she actually met Bayley’s eyes. Unconsciously tightening her hand's grip around Charlotte’s till the blond actually pulled her hand from underneath and reversed their positions. Squeezing gently to let Becky know she understood it wasn’t on purpose. 

 

“Then you should probably book a ticket now and save yourself some money.” Becky was able to feign confidence and for a brief moment, she really wanted to believe her own words. But as of now, it felt more like hope than absolute truth. 

 

Bayley nodded, keeping an arm around Becky’s shoulders she turned toward the house. She could see a light on in the living room, something she’d seen literally thousands of times over the course of her life. Yet she’d never been this nervous at the sight. “Is she still in there?” she asked, more to distract herself than anything. It was hard to miss the near armored vehicle in the driveway.

 

Becky had forgotten what she had come here for. The reminder bringing her back down to earth. Shrinking back down into herself. “She is. After our little conversation she wanted ta stick around ‘case you came round.”

 

Bayley pursed her lips as she stared at the house. Making up with Becky was one thing. But was she ready for this step?

 

“Char?” she asked, quietly.

 

Charlotte perked up. “What are you thinking?” 

 

“That I don’t know if…” Bayley started to say before she trailed off. Turning back to the blonde she asked: “Should I?”

 

“What do you want?” Charlotte asked back as she took in the other woman. “Are you ok to deal with this right now?”

 

“I have no idea…” Bayley said. Despite this, she took a step toward the door. Then another. Soon, she was making very halting progress. But as she went she turned her head to look over her shoulder.

 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you two didn’t properly kiss, I want to see it soon after all this wasted time.”

 

Both of the women in question were shocked by Bayley’s words. Quick words of protest coming out of both at the same time and overlapping to make it an unintelligible mess. 

 

“But we aren’t even-”

 

“It’s not like t’at-”

 

Becky and Charlotte stared at each other after speaking over one another. Both quickly breaking eye contact to stubbornly stare at the reporter and pull their respective hand back to their own side. 

 

Bayley smiled tightly before turning back to the door, suddenly much closer than she would have liked. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let's get the obvious out of the way....this is a LONG chapter.
> 
> To be more specific, it’s ONE HUNDRED PAGES LONG!
> 
> Why would we do such a thing? Are we mad? Do we have no lives? Probably yes on both counts. But MOSTLY it was because we had a LOT of emotional punches to throw before we can possibly begin thinking about closing this wild ride out. That’s right friends, you just read the penultimate chapter of Perseverance, the ride comes to a stop next chapter! 
> 
> No be sad…not cry! There is good news.
> 
> Remember that little old story we were talking about? “Grit” it was called. Well it’s still a thing and you can expect a fresh chapter tomorrow. “Grit” will be a western starring your Four Horsewomen and will be our follow up to Perseverance. Both Goose and I would be eternally grateful if you’d be willing to consider sticking with us as we launch that brand new adventure! The link is below…
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448562/chapters/43705331
> 
> But now, let us proceed to the real reason you’re all here.
> 
> What DID you all think of this chapter?
> 
> It’s amazing how far Charlotte has come as a character isn’t it? Could this really be the same woman who tried her best to burn all her bridges earlier in the story? What do you think the final run up to the fight will hold for her?
> 
> Becky, Becky, Becky...our girl finally got some wins this chapter! She deserved them so much (do you forgive us yet Clex?). Who would ever have thought that Becky might be the one talking someone OUT of a bad decision? What did everyone think of her conversation with Sasha? How will Becky handle the pressure leading up to the fight?
> 
> You, I said Becky needed a win, but the Boss needed one just as bad. Things went right off a cliff into a chasm of fire over the last two chapters for her. But maybe she’s finally learning that she can let other people help her, and trusting the people around her to do it. But can she last just a little while longer?
> 
> Bayley, you go on girl! A badass reporter and finally standing up for herself. She might be the most resilient Horsewomen of them all. Think how low she was not long ago, and yet she’s all the way back here. Are the remaining few sparks of Baysha going to be enough to kindle something more?
> 
> Becky really sucks at video games huh?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	16. Announcement!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An update for all of your wonderful readers, and a small reward for your patience.

Hello friends!

 

So we've received several messages asking where the final chapter of Perseverance is? We've heard you, I promise we aren't ignoring you. So here's a quick progress update as of 19:00 on July 17th:

 

Pages: 111

Words: 47,308

Characters: 257,088

Characters without Spaces: 210,805

 

...I'd estimate we're close to 75% done? Maybe 70%. This is going to be a HUGE chapter folks, and we want to make sure we get it right before we send it out. Thank you so much for your patience, we PROMISE we will handle it better than D&D did with the last season of GOT (Too soon?)

 

BUT, as a small consolation to you. Here is a small trailer from the upcoming chapter...

 

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the lunch, talk with the team, have a good time and remember who brought you here!” Teddy said, bursting with bon ami as he held his arms wide. He got loud round of applause as Sasha trudged after her teammates and out into the crowd. She then spent the next forty minutes circulating between the tables, chatting with the press and the contest winners. She always refused to be drawn into a discussion of her personal life and mostly just hid behind pleasantries and fight talk. 

 

During a brief lull, Sasha found herself posing for a photo with Kairi Sane. When they had a second, Kari asked: “How long do we need to be out here?” Sasha smiled to herself at this. She’d asked the exact same question at her first luncheon. 

 

“Usually, you just wait until Teddy leaves, then you’re free,” Sasha whispered before smiling and posing for another photo. After another fifteen minutes, Sasha had decided she’d had enough. She’d use the excuse of going to check on Meng to get out of here. She was just looking for Teddy when, through a gap in the crowd, she saw her.

 

Standing alone at a table in the far corner of the room, having made no effort to join the media scrum around the fighters, there was Bayley. 

 

Sasha just gaped. The reporter’s features were so familiar and yet so alien now, she didn’t know what to do with herself so she just kept staring. Bayley wasn’t looking at her, she was looking down at her phone while also scribbling notes into a small notebook. Sasha had seen her do this so many times before that her heart ached as she saw it now. A small reminder of a previous, happier, time.

 

Someone was speaking to her, touching her arm, maybe it was even Teddy, but she didn’t notice. She might as well have been in the room by herself, or almost by herself. Without thinking, without speaking, Sasha began to walk forward. All the noise and commotion around her fading away. 

 

Her breath sounded like the rumble of distant thunder in her ears. Her heartbeat, the report of a cannon. Her vision seemed to narrow, as though she were looking through a telescope at Bayley. There couldn’t have been more than fifty feet between them, yet each step seemed to get her no closer to her goal. If anything, Bayley seemed to be receding into the distance. 

 

Bayley had, despite everything, actually heard some interesting things from some of Thuggin and Buggin’s other fighters so she was busily taking some more detailed notes for herself. This was why she hadn’t bothered trying to join the rest of the press as they clambered for the attention of the fighters. No other reason.

 

She didn’t really know how long she’d been writing when she felt someone else join her at the table. Assuming it was just one of the waiters again, she simply nodded toward her cup without looking up and said: “I’m good with my coffee still, thank you.”

 

All she got in reply was one word. One word in a voice that made every single hair on Bayley’s neck and arms stand up. 

 

“Hey.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I really hope you all enjoy this story. It is a labor of love but one that deserves to be told. I wanna thank my buddy Vegas for helping me out and co-writing with me. Seriously you all should read his other works, you won't be disappointed. We have a lot of big plans for this story and I know some of you may be disappointed that Charlotte wasn't in this chapter but trust me she'll be coming. We had to lay the track to get the train rolling so to speak. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support
> 
> \- Becks.


End file.
